


Can't Love in Pieces

by chopwood



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Binding magic, Canon Era, Dungeon, Hurt Merlin, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic Revealed, Magic Torture, Powerless Merlin, Protective Arthur, Slow Build, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-02-19 23:22:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 58,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2406653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chopwood/pseuds/chopwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>--- Merlin couldn't have magic. He would've told me. At least, he wouldn't have been stupid enough to stay in Camelot, with the king's son no less. If he had magic, he certainly had a death wish.<br/>"You're lying." The leader had moved closer to Merlin while he had been thinking. Arthur positioned himself between them. "He doesn't have magic. There's no way he does."  --</p><p>Arthur and Merlin's hunting trip takes a turn for the worse when they are caught by bandits working for none other than Morgana, who had recently betrayed Camelot and vowed its destruction. Their capture costs them both a heavy toll, and reveals Merlin's dangerous secret. Their fight to survive together may be all that saves their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I just don't understand why I can't just ride the horse for a little while. It wouldn't hurt for you to get some exercise.... _your highness."_ Merlin smirked, peeking at Arthur out of the side of his eyes. He was up on his horse trying to hide his laughter.

" _Meeerlin,"_ Arthur drawled in a way he only did with his clumsy friend. "I am the prince, so I get to ride the horse. Your horse can carry the supplies, but we don't want it to get tired...AND I really hope that you aren't suggesting that I am fat...Merlin."

"Of course not, _Arthur_. It's just that a knight should always be in top shape, don't you think?" He paused before adding, "Of course, round is a shape, so-" He was interrupted by Arthur whacking him in the head with his gloved hand. Merlin ducked down as Arthur leaned back on his saddle and let out a burst of laughter. He smiled at Merlin and then jumped down off his horse and started walking beside his friend. Merlin looked at him expectantly.

"I figured you could have a turn, maybe it would shut you up for a few minutes." Merlin smiled warmly and scrambled up on the saddle and sighed. They walked on in silence through the forest a while.

* * *

The clearing they set up camp in was small, but perfect for resting until the next day in. A small stream framed one side of their campsite and a small hole in the ground was perfect to start a fire in. Merlin stumbled out into the trees to find some wood and Arthur filled up their canteens.

He sat upon a rock next to the water and sighed. He loved coming out here. Away from Camelot, from responsibility, from his father's demands, from everything he was expected to be and do and say. He would never admit it out loud, but he appreciated that he could always be himself with Merlin. He could trust him to be his voice of reason and his most trusted companion. Arthur was sure Merlin knew that, but they had a secret agreement that they wouldn't talk about it, they didn't need to.

He was especially grateful for this specific trip. His father was bringing some sort of council together in only twelve days to talk about the growing magic problem...and to talk about Morgana. He has been increasingly more angry and demanding of Arthur recently and upping the guards around the kingdom, bringing in more suspected sorcerers and subsequently finding them guilty and sentencing them to death. Arthur couldn't stand to watch another one of them die right outside his bedroom window, so he told his father he was going to go patrol out in the woods, packed up and ran off to go hunting with Merlin. Not really a patrol, since Merlin was completely useless with any sort of weapon, but Arthur was confident he could take care of them both. He took another drink from his canteen before getting up to get some food prepared for their dinner.

* * *

Merlin lay quietly beside the dying fire staring up at the stars. He thought about his destiny, his life in Camelot. He thought about his lie.

His eyes flicked over to the still form of the prince across the fire from him.

_I can't keep this from him forever._ He felt the faint tingling buzz of his magic under his skin. The buzz that connected him to the earth. He breathed in deep and smelled the freshness of the air. He heard the sounds of life around him and breathed out. _How can I accept his trust when he doesn't know? He is going to turn me in...or he will hate me. How can I get him to understand that magic isn't bad, that I'm not bad, that I had to lie?_ Glimmering tears filled his eyes and he blinked them back and turned over, blocking the pure light from the stars and moon from his vision. The warmth from the embers of the fire settled on his back and he drifted into a fitful sleep.

* * *

The clanging of metal jolted Arthur from his rest and he turned on the imposing noise with a frown and a wave of his dagger, which he pulled gracelessly from beneath his bedroll. Merlin turned sheepishly, wide-eyed and mouthing apologies.

"Sorry, the pot got stuck on the saddle." He motioned to the cooking supplies strewn about beside the horses. He grinned. "Breakfast?"

Arthur smiled back and nodded, noticing the faint dark circles beneath his manservants eyes. He pushed himself off the ground and rolled up his bedroll before helping Merlin boil the water for their food.

"Didn't sleep well?" Merlin tensed up and glanced at Arthur. He was suddenly very interested in the slowly heating water in the pot. "Calm down, Merlin. Just trying to strike up a conversation. You just look a bit tired." Arthur grabbed an apple from their bag and tossed it to Merlin, who surprisingly caught it.

"Yeah, I guess I'm just used to having an actual bed now." He laughed. "Only been in Camelot a few years and I'm already so spoiled. You must be rubbing off on me." Merlin's face lit up with a sneaky smile and Arthur burst out laughing. He shoved playfully at Merlin's shoulder and Merlin shoved back.

They ate their breakfast happily and then headed out to the woods to search for something for Arthur to hunt.

* * *

"Good lord, Merlin! You're going to scare all the animals away! We haven't been out here for _that_ long!" Arthur was slightly frustrated with his talkative companion. He didn't really mind that much, but he had been looking forward to actually shooting at something. That and Merlin was just complaining about how they haven't seen any animals and that they've been out here for hours and he's hungry and tired and blah blah blah.

"I'm just saying, Arthur. We haven't seen anything in hours. I don't think you're going to find anything you can crossbow to death today..." Merlin looked at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world and, of course, it was Arthur who was being the silly one and not the one who hadn't stopped talking for five hours.

"We aren't going in until I can shoot something, and if you don't shut up, it's going to be you, Merlin." Arthur waved his crossbow, trying to intimidate Merlin into submission, but Merlin just sighed and walked over and sat on a rock, watching him expectantly. "Come on, Merlin. This is my last trip before all those stuffy old lords get here. I just need to get some of-what?" He paused when he saw the wide-eyed look on Merlin's face. Merlin shushed him and motioned for him to come over to where he was sitting.

"Did you hear that, Arthur?" Arthur could tell Merlin was nervous. Crouched beside him, he could almost hear the racing beating of his heart in his chest.

"Hear what?" He whispered. He stayed as quiet as he could and strained his ears to hear anything.

He froze.

Hoofbeats....and something else...

Excited shouting...like a hunter who found its prey. Arthur would be less concerned, but he and Merlin both knew the only living creatures out here worth hunting, weren't animals, but a prince and his servant.

Arthur pulled Merlin closer to the ground. They were squished together behind the tree, hoping, praying that they were unseen, that the hoofbeats would continue on their way.

They slowed. They stopped. The shouts were so close to them. Arthur held his crossbow close to his chest, his hand ready to fire if he needed to. Merlin was tense beside him. His breathing had slowed and he was eerily calm for being completely unarmed, but Arthur figured he was just frozen with fear or something. He motioned to Merlin to stay where he was, ignoring his shaking head and he turned and looked past the tree.

There were about ten or twelve of them. Big, menacing, and dirty. Some carried swords, some had axes, a few had crossbows as well. There was a man in the middle of them, shouting something Arthur couldn't quite hear. He was motioning to the trees, pointing near where they were hidden. He wore a black, fur cloak and a sash that carried various bottles of some strange substance. All but one man and the leader began walking towards the trees. The man that stayed took one of the bottles from the leader and poured some of the substance onto the arrows in his crossbow. Arthur turned back around and tried to convey to Merlin that the men were coming and they were dangerous. Merlin nodded and managed to keep looking eerily calm.

_What do we do? If we wait, they'll find us and probably kill us, but maybe if we fight, we can manage to surprise them enough to run and find somewhere to hide. No, they have horses, we won't be fast enough. I have money, maybe I can bribe them. Maybe I'll just talk to them... This is not going to end well..._

Arthur sighed and decided that he was about to do something incredibly stupid and reckless. He counted the bolts in his crossbow and motioned to Merlin to run when he tells him to. Merlin shook his head again, but Arthur was already hopping out from behind the tree, taking aim and shooting down one, two, three of the large menacing bandits hurdling towards the tree. He shouted at Merlin to run, but Merlin only stood, looking conflicted and worrisome. The pause between reloading the fourth bolt was enough that Arthur took an arrow to his shoulder. He dropped to his knees, letting the crossbow drop from his hands.

"Arthur!" Merlin came out from behind the tree, allowing the bandits a new target. Arthur attempted to push Merlin back, but he was too late. Merlin shouted in pain as an arrow pierced his thigh. The bandits were upon them now, pointing their swords and axes at the two of them scrambling and bleeding on the ground. Arthur pulled himself up and pulled the arrow out of his shoulder with a groan of pain. It hadn't gone in too deeply, but it still hurt like hell and Arthur worried as he noticed the remains of the substance on the end of the bolt.

"What is the meaning of this!?" Arthur hoped to throw them off with a bit of his entitled prince act, but he had a feeling these men weren't going to care that much who he was. "Do you know who I am? Who do you think you are!?"

"I, Prince Arthur, am Morgana's most ruthless hunter. Would you like to know what I hunt, _your royal highness_?" The leader stepped into view from behind the weapon-wielding men. He smiled sharply and spoke like a serpent. "Those things." He motioned behind Arthur.

Arthur turned around to find Merlin still on the ground, his face contorted in pain, the wound where the arrow pierced his leg burning and foaming and spreading across his pale skin. He moaned quietly and his body shook with tremors. Arthur knelt down beside his shaking form, placing a gentle hand on his forehead, pulling his hand back from the heat of his skin.

"Merlin." He breathed out quietly. Arthur turned fiercely on the leader of the group. "What did you do to him?!" His fists shook in anger and fear, the pain in his shoulder forgotten. The man plucked one of the arrows from the man with the crossbow beside him and held it up, twirling it in his hands.

"You noticed the elixir on the bolt heads, didn't you? Something Lady Morgana cooked up special. See, this will only effect certain types of people and those people are the ones my men and I were sent out here to hunt for... Sorcerers." Arthur could practically see his tongue flick out as he slithered past, parading this lie as if it were true. _Merlin couldn't have magic. He would've told me. At least, he wouldn't have been stupid enough to stay in Camelot, with the king's son no less. If he had magic, he certainly had a death wish._

"You're lying." The leader had moved closer to Merlin while he had been thinking. Arthur positioned himself between them. "He doesn't have magic. There's no way he does."

The man was suddenly in Arthur's face. He was slightly taller than Arthur was and his dark eyes glared down at the prince. "I don't lie, little prince, and I don't care if you believe me or not. You're both coming back to the Lady Morgana anyway. How about this, if your little sorcerer friend there survives, you guys can work everything out in the dungeons."

Then the man was gone, his loud boots stomping back to the horses. The other men were placing heavy metal manacles on Arthur's wrists and pulling up the faintly breathing, sweat covered body of Merlin and placing leather cuffs with strange markings on his wrists and ankles. Merlin hissed in pain when they locked them to his limbs and his legs trembled and collapsed to the ground. Arthur pulled to try and help him, but the men held tight to the chains on the manacles and jerked him back to their horses. He was attached to one of the saddles by a smaller, but still large and hairy man. Merlin was barely able to stand, so one of the men tossed him over the back of their horse and tied him, so he wouldn't fall off. Arthur pulled at his chains, wishing he could get to Merlin, hoping what they had said was untrue. He really just wanted his friend to be okay. But they weren't going to be okay. They were going to go to Morgana. He was going to see his sister again.

* * *

The group stopped at a small stream after the fifth time Arthur tripped and fell out of exhaustion. Merlin was still on the back of the horse ahead of him, but Arthur could see that he was at least alert again and he was looking around. The men noticed this as well and untied him and pushed him off the horse. They shoved him over to the stream, beside where Arthur was, so he could sit and get a drink.

"Better rest up, sorcerer. You'll be walking the rest of the way." The man who had him on his horse shoved Merlin to the ground and walked away laughing under his breath. Merlin breathed out a ragged breath and looked hesitantly up at Arthur beside him. Arthur gasped at Merlin's appearance. The burning rash from the elixir in his wound had spread up his torso and onto his neck. His scarf had fallen off back on the trail and Arthur had managed to pick it up without drawing attention, so he pulled it out and dipped it in the stream and offered it to Merlin. He smiled weakly and took it. The sweat and grime and horse hair that was stuck to his face was washed away by the cool water.

"Thank you." Merlin paused. "Arthu-"

"Merlin. Is it true? Please..." Arthur leaned in close to Merlin. He looked into his eyes, hoping for the truth to show itself somewhere. Merlin held his gaze and then looked away, his shame confirming Arthur's fears.

Merlin whispered, "I'm so sorry, Arthur." His voice was heavy with sadness. He looked back to Arthur with eyes filled with tears. "I honestly meant to tell you. I wanted to. I just...how could I?" Arthur turned away from him, eyes stinging, heart growing heavier. He felt betrayed. His most trusted friend had lied to him, since the day they had met.

"Arthur, please. Please believe me, I have never, would never use it to hurt you. I have only ever used my magic to keep you safe. It's my destiny to save you, Arthur, please." The blonde turned to face the tear-filled eyes of his friend.

Angrily, he whispered trying to keep Morgana's henchmen from overhearing, "So, why don't you save me now, hmm? This would be a perfect time to use some Arthur-saving magic, Merlin."

"I-I can't. My magic isn't working... Whatever they did to me...I...I can't." Merlin turned away from Arthur. Arthur scoffed and rose as they were pulled away to get moving again.

* * *

 

_He knows. He knows and I'm going to lose him now. I can't do anything and he knows._

Merlin was scared. He was hurting and he was crying on the ground, next to a stream, next to his best friend who obviously hated him now. He hid his face, feeling weaker than he had ever felt. At least before when they were in trouble, Merlin had his magic to rely on, but now...it was like it was gone. The tingling buzz of his magic was numb and his body felt empty. The blinding pain from the elixir on the arrow had become a dull ache and the burn had stopped spreading at his neck, but now there was just emptiness. He felt no connection to the life around him. The ground was just the ground, the air was just the air, the trees were only trees. He felt only the frailty of his own body. With all the strength and power he gained from his magic gone, he was just the skinny, weak boy that Arthur had always seen him as.

He rose, unsteady on his feet and feeling weak and nauseous, and hobbled behind Arthur. He rubbed at the leather cuffs on his wrists, wincing when he saw the dark red burns that they left on his skin. He saw Arthur glancing back at him and he hid his hands quickly and looked at the ground.

* * *

They arrived to Morgana's castle ruins just after the sun disappeared behind the mountains and the darkness had begun to creep out from beneath the trees and slither out of its holes. Merlin had managed to stumble all the way from their resting place tied to the back of the same horse Arthur was tied to. Even though Arthur made a point not to speak to Merlin, he still helped him when he tripped and let him lean on his side when he couldn't walk by himself any longer, so Merlin hoped he wouldn't be losing his head if they ever made it back to Camelot. He hoped at least to be able to explain himself.

The two captives were lead in past decrepit ruins of doors and tapestries and curtains, through musty hallways and empty rooms, into a cavernous, foreboding chamber which had only an empty throne in the center and a table placed beside it. The cracked windows let slivers of silvery moonlight in, casting shadows that danced on the floor as the curtains blew in the gentle breeze. Merlin shivered in the chill of the night. He could feel the dark magic oozing from the air in this place, even without his own power. It was taunting him. It seeped into his skin, an unpleasant sensation like tar, heavy and thick. Arthur moved closer to his side. Merlin wasn't sure if it was on purpose or not, but he drew comfort from his warmth.

The doors at the back of the chamber blew open, revealing the sorceress. Lady Morgana, cloaked in billowing onyx cloth and clinging shadows, stepped gracefully into the room. Her elegant form breezed past the table and throne and crept closer to the captives and their group of captors. She stood inches in front of their faces, a condescending and threatening sneer on her face. Morgana smirked at Arthur before noticing the leather cuffs on Merlin's wrists and ankles. Her anger burned in her eyes and she turned on the leader of the bandits.

"What is he doing with those on?" Her breathing grew quicker. The leader looked confused and motioned to Merlin before replying.

"My lady, he is a sorcerer. We used your elixir on the arrows, like you told us to and it burned him. Look at his leg." Morgana knelt down and inspected the wound on Merlin's thigh. She began to breathe heavy, angry breaths. Merlin shook violently, his fear and powerlessness and the cold setting in. Arthur slowly moved closer to his side, still protective through his anger and feelings of betrayal.

"Take the prince to the dungeons. Lock him up nice and tight, would you? I need to have a little chat with Merlin here." Morgana's voice was sweet, reminiscent of how she was before, but now with a barely hidden rage behind it. Arthur puffed up and surged forward.

"No! I'm not leaving! You're not going to hurt him, not while he can barely stand up! Morgana, look at him, he's dead on his feet!" Merlin stood behind Arthur, supported only by one of the thugs who had one of his arms in his in painful grip. He was sagging to the floor, his knees buckled and his eyes glazing over. Arthur looked between Morgana and Merlin, his worry and fear present on his face, always wearing his emotions on his face for the world to see. His half-sister laughed in his face. She reached out and snatched him by his tunic and pulled him to her face.

"Not yet, Arthur, but he will be when I'm finished with him." She pushed Arthur to the ground, his wide eyes staring up at her as she stalked away, motioning to the bandits to take him away. Arthur screamed. He fought. He bit and scratched and clawed, but the last he saw of Merlin was of his shaking body falling to the ground in front of furious woman he used to call family.


	2. Chapter 2

The events of the past few hours crashed down upon his aching shoulders when the heavy wooden door of the cell closed behind him. Arthur collapsed onto the stone floor and held his head in his hands. His breathing erratic and his mind both racing with thoughts and blank at the same time, he let out a sob.

_Magic, Merlin, Morgana. What is happening. Nothing is right. I feel like I'm having a nightmare. How can Merlin have magic? How could he not tell me? Why couldn't he use it earlier? Oh God. And what is Morgana going to do with him... He's alone up there, apparently powerless...but...no. What if he's working with her? Could I have misplaced my trust so far? Merlin would never...would he?_

Arthur stood up and began to pace. The anxiety of his thoughts was pouring off him in waves. He walked around the small cell, from the small barred window that peered out to blackness, back to the locked door, that no matter how he pounded on it, stayed firmly shut. Then he did it again. And again. And again until he couldn't do it anymore and he slammed his fist against the rough stones of the wall and shouted. The smell of blood and the sting of a fresh wound pulled him out of his head for a moment and he focused on the red liquid coming from his knuckles.

The cell was dark, save for the strips of light coming through the door's small barred window. He fell to the floor again, the exhaustion setting in and taking him forcefully into unconsciousness.

* * *

"Merlin!" Arthur jolted awake, pulling the semi-healing wound in his shoulder painfully and eliciting a groan. He rubbed his neck and stood slowly and deliberately. He peered into the corridor outside of his cell.

"Hello?!" It was empty. His voice echoed. "Heeellllo!? Morgana!?" A sigh escaped his mouth and he turned to look at the cell, which was lit by streams of sunlight coming in from the window.

It was small, which he discerned from the pacing the night before. There were questionable stains on the stone floor, dark and discolored. Arthur ran his hands on the walls, fingers feeling for any looses stones. The walls were sturdy, no doubt strengthened by a spell, to ensure he wouldn't escape. The bars on the windows were firm and unmoving as well. The prince leaned his head against the bars in defeat, looking out to the free world and the fluttering birds and the trees of the forest that surrounded the decrepit castle. The sound of water met his ears and Arthur realized how thirsty he was.

_They didn't leave me any water or food. What if they're going to leave me in here to die? What could Morgana even want with me anyways? I have to get out of here._

"Hey! I need some water! HE-LLO! Is anyone even out there!? You'd think someone would be guarding the prince of Camelot...!"

Drip. Drip. Drip. Plop.

Arthur turned around. A small bowl of water and a tray of bread were sitting on the floor. He looked back out to the corridor and listened intently for any sound of life, but heard nothing.

A moment later half the water was gone and a bite had been taken out of the bread.

* * *

It had been hours since the food and water had appeared in the cell. Arthur had been sitting bored, then standing bored, then pacing bored. He had shouted himself hoarse and then just watched the corridor until he heard it. Footsteps. A faint voice. They were getting closer. Arthur's heart pounded with anticipation and fear.

_You're a knight, Arthur. Be brave. Negotiate like you were taught. Think, Arthur. What do we do if we're captured....?_

He stepped back into the center of the cell when he heard the footsteps growing nearer to his door. He steeled himself and cleared his throat.

The face of the leader of the bandits appeared in the window.

"Oh, look here. It's the little prince. How's it going, your royal highness." He sneered and spat into the cell. Arthur stood his ground.

"Listen, you. Whatever it is that Morgana is paying you, I can assure you that you will get more from Camelot for my release. My manservant and me."

The leader laughed through the bars.

"You think it's your riches I desire? Morgana offers me more than gold." His eyes lit with golden light and a heatless fire encircled Arthur, whose eyes widened with panic. "Morgana promises us freedom. Revenge...for what we have lost. What your father has taken from us. Your bribery means nothing to me...and neither do your promises. Once Morgana finishes with your precious manservant, we will get our freedom."

The mention of Merlin made Arthur forget about the fire around him. It brought a pang of the pain of betrayal, but mostly he was worried.

"What has she done to him?" The leader smiled. A turning up of the lips that would make a child turn to their mothers in fear. "Tell me!"

" _She_ has found herself a new assassin." Morgana pushed the bandit out Arthur's view and stepped into view. "Merlin has decided that he is done with hiding and he has agreed to join me. Isn't that nice, Arthur?" She flashed her eyes and the flames vanished and the heavy door swung open. Morgana stepped into the cell and stood, tall and proud, in front of Arthur.

_She's lying. She's lying. He wouldn't join her. She's magic. She's bad. She lies... Merlin doesn't.... No. He lied. He has magic, but he wouldn't... he... maybe..._

"I can tell you're having a hard time with this, Arthur. Let me tell you about Merlin. The real Merlin, not the one that you thought you knew." Arthur glared up at the dark haired sorceress. Her eyes were ringed with red, she looked exhausted, but pleased. Arthur felt his heart sitting heavy in his stomach. He stepped from Morgana's penetrating gaze and slid onto the floor.

"He was very powerful, you know. One of the most powerful sorcerers even. The druids had told me of a sorcerer called Emrys. They said he would one day bring magic back to the land. I never knew it was Merlin, though. I suppose I always saw him as just Merlin, the clumsy, but incapable servant. Just as you did, I underestimated him." Her voice turned sharp. Morgana turned away, a rage building in her, like an unhealed wound festering beneath the surface. Arthur sneaked a glace up at her.

"He tried to poison me, Arthur. I was lost and scared of my power... and he tried to murder me." Her eyes turned on him, full of manic fury and tears. "I suppose I deserved it. I was erratic. Our plans never would have worked... Not without more power... but now, with Merlin... with all the magic that he should have helped me with before...it's mine to use....and do you know what I'm going to have him do first, dear brother?" She stepped close to Arthur, still sitting on the ground and clutched his chin in her hand. Her nails dug into his skin and he hissed at the sharp pain.

"Take care of our lovely father." She smiled, her eyes alighting with the thought of Uther Pendragon's head stuck on a pike. Arthur looked up at her in frightened awe.

"NO!" He pushed her away. "STOP LYING! Merlin... He wouldn't agree to work with you! He wouldn't try to kill you and he won't kill my father!" He shouted in frustration. His loyalties were straining. Arthur thought he knew who Merlin was, what he was capable of, how far he would go. This wasn't Merlin. However, in the years that he had known Morgana, he had learned to read her when she was lying and she showed no signs of deception. Morgana came beside the agitated prince and gripped his arm.

"What are you doing?" Arthur looked at her in confusion.

She spoke a series of strange words quickly and her eyes flashed gold. A flash of pain was there and gone on Arthur's arm and Morgana pulled her hand away to reveal a dark black symbol imprinted on his skin. She stepped away from Arthur, paused and looked him over, and then walked out the door and it shut tight behind her. Arthur ran to the door and shouted after her.

"Morgana! What is this!? Morgana! COME BACK HERE! MORGANA!"

* * *

Arthur couldn't sleep. He paced. He looked at the mark on his arm. He thought about Merlin. He thought about Morgana. And he paced.

"Grrrraahhhh!" He pulled at his hair. "Why is this happening!?"

He kicked at the bowl of water on the floor. It clattered over to the spot where Morgana had been standing.

"Wha-?" Arthur walked over to the bowl and tipped it over to look at the floor beneath it. The moonlight from the window illuminated a metallic shape. Arthur picked it up.

_A key!? It must have fallen out when Morgana was in here._

He ran to the door and glanced out the window, checking for the bandits, before inserting the key into the lock. The turn of that key was the most beautiful sound Arthur had ever heard. He pulled open the door and stepped into the corridor. He ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of Arthur's perspective there. A bit shorter than the first chapter, but that's all I really wanted to give away for now. Sorry for the wait, but I have had so much college work and it sucks, but I'll try to update like every other week from now on.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Comment or Kudos if you like!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took, so long. College. ugh

Pain blossomed from every nerve. Merlin wasn't sure if he was screaming anymore, he couldn't remember. It seemed like hours since Arthur had been taken away and Morgana had started in on him, wordlessly waving spells at his body. She stopped and stepped away for a moment, leaving Merlin gasping and coughing up glittery red blood onto the cold stone floor.

"Do you know, Merlin, why I'm doing this?" Morgana turned around again and pushed Merlin's head up with her shoe. Merlin looked up her blearily through tear-filled eyes. He tried to respond, but only was able to let out a moaning sob. Morgana sneered and let his head fall to the floor again.

"You betrayed my trust, Merlin. Trying to poison someone really puts a damper in a relationship." Kneeling down, her eyes fierce and blazing, she hissed, "You shouldn't have done that."

Out of Merlin's sight, Morgana's hand burned with druidic symbols as she prepared a spell. With her other hand, she pushed Merlin to the floor and pulled his tattered tunic from his chest and pressed her burning palm down on his sweat-covered skin.

Merlin screamed.

Morgana simply laughed and continued covering Merlin's skin in her magical brand.

* * *

A gentle breeze whispered through an open window in the corridor. It carried across the quiet, empty space, danced over puddles of glittering blood, and came to rest on the oozing burns of human flesh. The silence was broken with sounds of pain and disorientation.

Merlin opened his eyes, moving his limbs slowly, trying to keep his wounded torso from stretching too much. He looked around. The hall was devoid of sound apart from his rasping breaths. An intimidating chain circled around the door handles at both ends of the hall and spiked metal bars kept him from leaving through any of the windows.

Merlin closed his eyes and pulled himself up, so he was sitting instead of lying on the ground. His mind was blank. The torture that Morgana had put him through had been so all-consuming, he couldn't remember what she had said to him while she was beating him senseless.

 _What was it? She branded me._ He winced when he glanced at his arms and chest and blinked back angry tears. _She told me I had to do something. Something important... Damn, what was it... She said the brands took away my magic... but I could get it back if I... went somewhere... Camelot? Yes. Camelot. I had to do something in Camelot..._

"You're going to kill Uther, you traitor." Morgana had slithered back into the room silently, her dress trailing after her like a serpentine tail. Merlin gaped at her.

"I told you that you're going to kill Uther. That's what you're trying to figure out, right? What I was torturing you for? Well, besides the fun of it. I mean it's pretty poetic, right? He wants to kill all of us, so the most powerful sorcerer is going to be the one to murder him. And it's the one that's gotten _so close_ to his son." Morgana laughed, faintly resembling her old self, but her smile didn't reach her manic eyes.

Merlin coughed, his hand coming away with specks of red, and cleared his throat.

"I'm... not going...to kill anyone." He rasped. Merlin was still sat on the floor, his body looking broken and beaten down, his trousers soaked in his own blood, but his eye were alight with passion and loyalty. A faint gold tinted his blue eyes.

"Well, killing Uther is the only way to keep Arthur alive, so...." Morgana paused to see Merlin look up at her in horror.

"See I visited Arthur after I finished with you. I gave him a nice present. A bit of insurance, if you will...of our deal. You see that little gift is going to poison Arthur, slowly, silently, and in two weeks, the blond little prince will drop dead. No bringing him back, no saving him, unless Uther dies." Morgana motioned at the fresh brands on Merlin's skin. "Now these tiny little symbols will make sure that you don't go back on our deal. No magic. No saving Arthur, no killing us." She knelt down beside him and ran her thin fingers gingerly over the small bits of untouched skin. "You're very powerful, Emrys. I know you could do it. In the blink of an eye, bam. We're all dead. But now, all that power you have is stuck, building up inside you, and if you take too long, it's going to poison you. Just like you tried to do to me." The glare Merlin received at that remark was blazing. He flinched away. "So, you have two weeks, and once that's up, you and Arthur will be dead."

Morgana stood and walked over behind the chair in the middle of the hall. She pulled a sparkling blade out of a hidden panel and brought it back over to Merlin. He flinched back, expecting more pain. She laughed quietly under her breath.

"Don't worry, Merlin. As long as you hold up our deal, I have no reason to harm you." Morgana said shaking her head. Merlin glared at her attempt to build trust after having tortured and bound his magic only hours ago. He snatched the blade from her hands and she smiled.

"I'm glad we could see eye to eye, Merlin."

"I need to see Arthur before I go." Morgana rolled her eyes.

"What, don't trust me?" She sneered sarcastically.

"Take me to him...now. And if you've hurt him-" Merlin had risen shakily to his feet with his words.

"He's fine," she interrupted. "For now..."

Merlin waited at the doors for Morgana to lift the chains. They passed through the open doors together and headed down to the dungeon.

* * *

 

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S GONE!?"

The cell door was open, revealing the absence of a certain blond prince. Merlin stepped into the cell, past the guard and Morgana, who were in a shouting match about a familiar key that was found by the door and the laziness of the guards. Morgana was not having any of the excuses and she looked seconds from hexing the pants off the terrified-looking guard.

The limping sorcerer ran his hand along the stone walls, pausing to tiptoe at the window. The moonlight illuminated the trees of the forest outside, casting eerie shadows along the ground. Merlin stepped over an empty bowl and turned back to look through the cell door. Morgana had gone quiet. She stood silently fuming in the doorway.

"Where is he?" Her voice came out tense, with forced calm. Merlin said nothing. He was fighting the urge to grin.

_He got out. He'll go to Gaius. He'll get better. He has to. As long as he is okay, it doesn't matter._

"I said...WHERE IS HE!?" A flash of black and she was upon him. Merlin flinched back involuntarily, a side effect of his past few hours, but regained his composure and spat in her face. Morgana screeched and slapped him across the face. The calm facade she had been trying to pass off had been murdered by her unstable temperament. She was unhinged. Merlin was afraid, but unwilling to do anything that could get Arthur caught, even if he didn't know where he had gone.

"I know he wouldn't leave without you..." She gripped at his tender shoulders, her sharp nails digging viciously into his skin, and her eye went cold. "Unless he did..." The smile that grew on her face chilled Merlin to the core. "He found out your little secret and he left without you."

Merlin didn't hear her cackling laughter. It was drowned out by the realization that Arthur must have left him. He was abandoned. Merlin's eyes filled with tears. He tried to pull out of Morgana's claws, turning his face away in shame, but she pulled him closer and whispered into his ear.

"All those years, Merlin. And he left you for dead because of your magic." Her grip loosened. "How about I leave you to think a while, hm?" Merlin looked up at her, shock on his face.

"Wha-" She put a finger to his lips and shushed him.

"You're going to stay here for a few hours, to think things over. Perhaps we will be able to work something out. Since you really don't have much to lose now." Morgana's voice had grown soft and sympathetic, like she was consoling him. She sighed at the look of confusion she received.

"Look, Merlin. Arthur's going to go back to Camelot. Do you really think he's not going to tell Uther what you are? He left you for dead. Maybe you can see things from our side, now that they're going to hunt you down too... Sleep well, Emrys." Morgana walked out the door, pausing to check the lock before marching determined down the corridor.

The only thought that crossed Merlin's mind was _alone._

The chill of the night sank into his naked torso and he shivered violently. Merlin leaned carefully into the wall and let his tears fall.

* * *

Arthur heard shouting from behind him. Guards running back, likely to his cell, from all directions of the castle. He snuck through empty corridors and into a small room, which was full of dusty furniture, some covered in previously white cloth. The sounds of stomping boots grew louder outside the door, so Arthur ran and climbed into a chest that was hidden behind a large cracked mirror. He could hear doors slamming shut.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Arthur's heart pounded in his chest. He cursed himself silently for breathing so loud. He was sure they could hear him.

The door to the room slammed open. Arthur held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut.

He could hear the footsteps going around the room, pausing every so often to check under the cloths and the furniture. They were right next to Arthur's hiding spot when he heard it.

Morgana shouted so loud that Arthur flinched in the dark of the chest.

The guard immediately ran out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

Arthur let out a breath and rested his head on the side of the chest.

_I need to get out of here._

Morgana's shouting had stopped. Arthur pushed the lid of the chest up slowly and sat up, glancing quickly around the room. Empty. Perfect.

He carefully climbed out and stood beside the door and waited, straining to listen, hoping to hear something useful. He didn't, so he slowly pulled the door open and began stepping out.

He froze.

A guard was turning a corner into the hall, not ten feet away. Arthur thanked the gods that the guard was alone and he ran swiftly at him. The guard was well-trained, but still no match for the prince. Arthur elbowed him to the jaw, dropping him to the floor. He snagged the sword from the guard's belt and held it to his throat.

"Make a sound and I swear I will slash your throat." The young guard nodded his head enthusiatically, his eyes wide and terrified. Arthur grinned.

"Now, where is Morgana keeping Merlin?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, there's the next chapter for you. Sorry it took so long. I end up writing something, then I reread it and it's terrible, so I delete the whole thing and then I rewrite it and then it sucks again, so I finally just said, dammit just post it, you're never going to be satisfied with it.
> 
> So yeah. sorry Merlin. I kinda have a thing for the hurt (comfort will be later)
> 
> As always, if you like it leave kudos and comments, I'm always happy to get constructive criticism, so if you see grammar/spelling/areas to work on, I would love to hear from you.  
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while. School new job wisdom teeth etc etc. Probably won't update too soon since I'm working at a summer camp and only have one two hour break for the whole day. Anyways, here's Chapter 4.

_Ridiculous,_ Arthur thought. _She kept him in the same cell I was in… I still have the key. She must be up to something… this is just too convenient…_

Arthur crept carefully around the corners, passing from corridor to corridor silently. The cell was just up ahead. Arthur's heart pounded in his chest. He knew something was coming. There was no way that Morgana would just leave the area unguarded. It had been way too easy to get this far. His grip on the guard's sword was sweaty, but tight. His knuckles whitened with his rising anxiety. He paused at the edge of the dungeons hallway. The cells were just on the other side of the wall. Arthur breathed deep and stole a quick glace around the corner.

He shook his head at himself. _Too fast, idiot… I didn't see anything._

He looked again, slower. Three guards. Two of them facing the cell door, talking. They sounded like they were taunting Merlin. The third was pacing, his hands twitching. Arthur took a breath and calculated his odds. He was exhausted, dehydrated, hungry. He was angry, though, and he had the element of surprise on his side. He stole another quick glance. The pacing guard was still now, facing the other side of the corridor.

Arthur took his chance and ran swiftly and silently toward the three guards. The previously pacing guard was the closest. Arthur took the hilt of his sword and cracked him on the skull, knocking him out. The sound alerted the other two guards. Arthur was a fast opponent, though. He dispatched one, slamming him into the wall and punching him three times in the head. He collapsed, bruised and moaning, but alive. The second had pulled his sword and was advancing on Arthur, who had taken a moment to raise his sword up again. He winced at the clanging clash of metal. _It's too loud_ , Arthur thought. _They have surely heard us. They're probably here already._ The guard was well-trained, but he was sloppy and Arthur's skill overtook him. The guard moaning on the ground was struggling to get back up, but he was brought down quickly with a swift kick to the head.

"Merlin!" Arthur panted. He pulled the key from his belt and ran to the door. He struggled to unlock it, his hands shook with adrenaline and fear. "Merlin, please say you're in there."

Arthur peeked into the window of the cell door.

"Hi." Merlin replied weakly. He was sat on the other side of the cell, looking fragile and apologetic, but with a golden fire Arthur had rarely seen lighting up his eyes.

Arthur frowned and focused himself. He took a breath and stuck the key in the door and pulled it open. Striding across the cell, he reached his hand out to his manservant.

"We need to go. I don't know how many guards Morgana has stalking about this place or if they heard any of that." He motioned to the unconscious guards. "I don't really even remember how to get out of here. Don't suppose you could be of any help."

Merlin took his outstretched hand and hobbled to his feet. He had felt much better earlier when he had woken up after Morgana's torture, well at least more mobile, but now a heavy ache had settled in his muscles and he felt practically paralyzed. The brands on his skin were oozing and sticking to the scratchy tunic he had been given. Merlin let his hand linger in Arthur's a moment before he let go.

"I don't even know if I can walk, Arthur…" His gaze shifted to the floor. Merlin's eyes glinted with a sheen of tears. "You should just leave me. I'll only hold you back."

"Merlin, you're coming with me. Morgana told me that you're going to kill my father, and if I leave you here… how am I supposed to know if this is a trap!? You could be faking this, this whole thing! I can't leave you here." He reached out and snatched Merlin's wrist. Merlin gasped and flinched back.

"I'm not lying to you, Arthur. I just want you to live." His eyes grew panicked and he looked past Arthur to the door. "You need to go. You've been here too long." Merlin turned away, his arm crossed across his chest, softly stroking his wrist where Arthur had grabbed him.

Arthur rolled his eyes. He sighed before pulling Merlin up onto his back.

"Sorry, this is going to be a bit uncomfortable, but I'm not leaving you here. You still owe me an explanation and I can't get that if you're still locked up here." Merlin winced, but relaxed onto Arthur's back and looped his arms around his neck.

The piggy-backing prince waddled out of the cell and down the corridor. He paused at the end before turning the corner. _Nothing_. He was confused, but grateful. _How had no one come down here yet?_

They continued through the corridor before they reached a flight of stairs beside a window. Carrying the other man exhausted Arthur, so Merlin slid off his back and rested on the floor while Arthur crept up the stairs to check the corridor for guards. He reached the top, looked around the corner and returned to Merlin, his expression weary, but determined.

"What'd you see up there?" Merlin asked. Arthur shook his head.

"There's too many guards up there. We're going to have to find another way. I won't be able to take them by myself." He stood quietly, glancing up at the top of the stairs for any movement, and began pacing, trying to figure out another path.

Merlin worried his lip. He hated feeling so useless. His body hurt everywhere, most of the brands were stuck to the loose fabric of his clothes, and he was powerless. The sound of nature outside the window next to them filled his ears and he had an idea. Standing slowly, he caught Arthur's attention and motioned to the window. The two men breathed a sigh of relief.

The castle Morgana had taken for her own was overgrown and unkempt. A large tree had grown beside the walls and was not too far from the window where they stood. If they were careful, they could climb down and escape.

"Arthur, I don't know about this. Maybe you should just go alone. Even if we get out of here, I'll just slow you down." Arthur ignored Merlin's protests and started maneuvering the younger man out the window and onto a small ledge.

"Careful." Arthur made sure Merlin was holding the edge of the window before he hopped out of the window too. "Okay, Merlin. I'm going over to the tree branch, then you can jump over and I'll catch you."

There was no arguing with Arthur when he got like this, so Merlin gritted his teeth and began mustering as much strength as he could. Arthur looked satisfied with that response, so he readied himself to hop over to the tree branch.

The tree was about three feet from the ledge, so Arthur made it easily. He ensured that it was sturdy enough for two people and held out his hand for Merlin to follow.

"Merlin, come on. It's fine. We're going to get out of here. Just a little hop." Merlin turned back to the window. His knuckles were white, his hands gripping the wall so tight he couldn't feel them much. _You can do this, Merlin. Arthur is going to die if you don't get out of here. Do it for Arthur._ He turned back around and let go of the ledge. Giving a nod to his prince, he jumped.

 

**"No!"**

 

"Hold on, Merlin." Merlin's legs locked up when he jumped and he didn't make it to the branch, but Arthur still barely caught him. Tears welled up in Merlin's eyes. Arthur was gripping his wounded arms as he dangled from the tree branch.

"Aaarrrgh!" With a grit of teeth, a few deep breaths, and blood pumping with adrenaline, Arthur hoisted Merlin up onto the branch. They leaned against the trunk of the tree panting. Arthur held Merlin close to his chest, his arms clinging to him. He told himself that it was so Merlin wouldn't fall from the tree, which was mostly true. Shaking hands trailed across coarse fabric damp with sweat and blood, fingers edged up to black hair, but retreated before they reached their destination.

"Merlin." Arthur spoke softly after he allowed them a moment to catch their breath. "We need to get out of here before it gets dark." He gently pushed Merlin away from his chest as well as any feelings of awkwardness at their closeness. Merlin nodded, blinking slowly. Arthur could tell he was only going to last a couple more hours before he collapsed, so they had to move quickly.

Thankfully, the tree had branches sprouting out every few feet, so Arthur was able to carefully crawl climb down, helping Merlin along the way. After fifteen minutes, they reached solid ground. Arthur worried that he hadn't heard any guards in the castle or Morgana's furious shouting in ages. Their escape was just too easy. However, Merlin's groans of pain jolted him out of his train of thought and he decided it was better to think on this when they were far away from the castle. He turned to look up at the windows of the castle to make sure no one was watching, then helped Merlin up and quickly cut into the overgrown bushes that led back into the woods.

* * *

 

 "I'm fine, Arthur. I can keep going." Arthur rolled his eyes. His manservant was just as stubborn as ever, even when barely able to move and blinking back pained tears. It had been two hours since they escaped and they were both exhausted, hungry, and dehydrated. Arthur worried his manservant would keel over and never wake up again, so he finally ordered him to sit down so they could make camp.

"You're an idiot, Merlin. You know that?" Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well at least I'm not a clotpole." He panted out after collapsing next to a tree. Arthur ripped off a strip of his tunic and knelt down beside Merlin. Wordlessly, he wiped a layer of blood, sweat, and dirt off the younger man's face. Merlin held his breath, shocked by the intimate action. He expected Arthur to say something, but he simply stood and started scanning the area for anything useful.

In the dusk, Arthur couldn't make much out. Honestly, he just needed to have a moment to think. Since they had escaped, he had been so focused on keeping Merlin moving and standing that he had forgotten why Merlin was in the state he was.

"A sorcerer." He whispered. "He's a sorcerer."

He kicked at a rock. It bounced down a gentle slope and landed with a splash in a thin trickle of water. _Well, that was lucky..._ Arthur thought.

 

With nothing to carry it in, Arthur pulled the semi-conscious Merlin over to the edge of the stream to drink. Merlin tried to kneel over and scoop it up in his hands, but lacked the strength and nearly fell over. Arthur quickly grabbed him and sat him on the ground. He knelt down to the stream.

"Merlin, just let me." Arthur cupped his hands, scooped up some water, and held it up to Merlin's frowning mouth.

"Arthur, I can get water for myself. I'm not completely useless." Arthur sighed. He looked down at Merlin's hands and then back at his face.

"Put out your hands, then." He did so and Arthur poured the water in his hands into Merlin's shaking ones and watched as he sipped it. Arthur scooped up some more water and did the same.

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

 

Then Merlin spoke.

"I'm sorry, Arthur." His voice was soft, hesitant. Arthur turned his head away. He didn't want to have this conversation. It was an inevitable one, but he did not want to deal with this now. Not anytime soon at least.

"Arth-"

"We're not talking about this now, Merlin." He snapped. Arthur paused. He turned to look at Merlin. "Just get some sleep."

Arthur stood. He walked and laid down a few feet from Merlin.

Merlin blinked back a few tears. He spared a sad glance at the prince and laid down as well. Closing his eyes, he fell into a deep sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

The prince was restless during the night. The sounds of the wood seemed more sinister. Each crack of a branch could be Morgana's men. Every rustle could mean their recapture. Arthur was tempted to wake Merlin and continue on their way, but Merlin was in no shape to keep going, and they would call more attention to themselves if they were moving.

He yawned and turned to lie on his back. A half moon glowed in the sky. The light cast eerie shadows in the branches of the trees. Usually, Arthur would use his restless nights to think over battle strategies, or recall constellations he learned in his youth from his tutor, but his thoughts kept going back to his magical manservant.

 _What am I going to do when we get back?_ He looked over at Merlin. He was still. His chest rising only slightly with each strained breath. The moonlight illuminated his pale skin, he looked almost otherworldly. Even if he didn't like it, Arthur could tell especially now that Merlin was different. He'd never noticed it before, but now that he knew, it was so obvious. He wondered how often Merlin had used his magic around him. _How oblivious had he been over the years?_ _How much had Merlin lied about?_ Arthur wondered how much he actually knew about his friend. A few days ago, he would have sworn in court that he knew everything about Merlin, but now... he had no clue who he had trusted so much of his life with. Calloused hands scrubbed at wet eyes and he turned his face away from Merlin. He tried to force his thoughts away from the deception, but they kept returning to it. His stomach twisted, cold and unforgiving.

He passed out, his arms wrapped around his chest and his eyes squeezed shut.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. There's that. I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while. I always forget how difficult it is to put ideas into actual words.  
> On that note, I tried to edit this while I went and I only reread it like once or twice, so if there's anything I need to fix, let me know.  
> Also, if you have comments, constructive criticism, kudos, nice things to say, smiley faces, etc, please leave them. I forget that I'm writing this sometimes, so remind me with encouragement.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: There's some vomiting in the beginning of this chapter, so if that grosses you out, just skip the first part.

Arthur wakes to the sound of retching and splattering on the ground. He sits up and opens bleary eyes to see Merlin crouched over, violently sick. Arthur rushes over, tension from the night before brushed aside, replaced by concern for his friend.

"Merlin." Arthur places a gentle hand on his back, stroking softly. "You're okay, just relax." Merlin coughed up more of the meager contents of his stomach. Arthur glanced over to see gold shimmering liquid mixed with what looked like blood. _Odd,_ he thought, _what is that gold stuff?_

Arthur continued to rub Merlin's back until he was finished and collapsed back on the ground, panting and leaking tears and shimmering gold drops from his eyes. They sat silent for a few minutes. Arthur scooped some water from the stream and brought it over. Merlin cracked open his eyelids and gratefully held out his hands for Arthur to pour the water in.

"Thanks," he croaked before sipping at his drink. Arthur sat down on the ground beside him. He pulled another piece of his tunic off and handed it to Merlin.

"You've got some-" Arthur motioned to his own face. Merlin gave a small smile and wiped the mess from his eyes and mouth. He blew his nose, then laid the fabric on the ground and sighed. Arthur stared at him.

Merlin looked exhausted. His eyes had dark bags hanging beneath them, and his skin held a deathly pallor. It was as though Merlin's colors were all muted and dull. His hair, which usually stuck out in all directions after a night in the woods, hung lifeless and limp from his scalp. Arthur could see Morgana's brands peeking from the too-big tunic Merlin was wearing. They were red, angry marks, some were starting to scab, but Arthur could tell from the way Merlin was moving, that they were still sticking to his tunic and he was in a lot of pain.

 _Of course, there was also the fact that he was just throwing up sparkly gold, bloody vomit, so he probably isn't doing too well,_ Arthur thought sarcastically.

Arthur knew he needed to break the silence somehow. Merlin was just sitting there picking at his fingers. _Probably because of how I yelled at him last night…_ Arthur turned to Merlin and opened his mouth.

"So, why were you throwing up gold?" _Seriously, Arthur._ He mentally slapped himself. _You idiot._

Merlin looked up at him with big sad eyes, almost spoke, but then sighed and looked back at his hands.

"It's-it's complicated." He said softly.

"Is it something to do with what Morgana did to you?" Merlin nodded.

"What happened, Merlin?" The prince asked him with genuine concern in his voice. He may be upset with Merlin for lying to him, but he couldn't stand the fact that Morgana had tortured him, had left her mark all over his manservant's skin.

Merlin's eyes teared up, but he sucked in a deep breath before speaking, his voice still shaky.

"I don't remember all of it. I think she may have done something to make me forget some of it. I remember them pulling you down to the cells. I was pushed onto the floor and Morgana started screaming at me. She was angry because of something I had done to her...something that I knew was necessary to do…" Merlin paused and looked away from Arthur. His face was clouded with shame.

Arthur remembered something that Morgana had said to him when she came to his cell.

"You actually did poison her." Merlin looked back at Arthur. He was surprised, but he nodded sadly.

"I can't believe this." Arthur stood abruptly, the concern he felt a moment ago pushed away. "You tried to kill her!? What next?! Were you going to poison me too?! You sure had plenty of chances, Merlin!"

"Arthur!" Merlin struggled to his feet. He looked Arthur in the eye. "I did what I knew was right-what I thought was right... When I poisoned Morgana, she was channeling a powerful spell that would have killed everyone in Camelot. I didn't have time for second guessing, so I did what had to be done. Yes, I feel bad about it, I feel terrible about a lot of the things I've done, but I don't feel bad that you and the people in Camelot are still alive because of what I did." Merlin stood tall, the shakiness had gone from his legs and he spoke with a bold ferocity.

Arthur glared at him, still upset, but thoughtful. He wondered at the truthfulness of Merlin's words.

Silence fell between them again and for a few moments they waited for the other to make a move.

The sound of galloping horses broke the tension.

Arthur whipped his head around to find the source of the sound. He quickly grabbed Merlin and they over to a small crevice in a tree nearby. They huddled tight together, with Merlin pushed up in the tree and Arthur hovering over him, shielding him with his body.

The galloping got closer. Arthur looked down at Merlin. Merlin looked up at him. They saw fear in each other eyes. Their hearts pounded.

The galloping got closer still. Arthur pulled himself in tighter to the tree. They shut their eyes and held their breaths.

The galloping was upon them. Just on the other side of the tree. They could hear shouts, splashes of hooves going through the small stream.

The galloping continued. It slowly faded, then was gone. They breathed and Arthur let his head fall and rest on the top of Merlin's. He dropped his hands from the tree to the ground. Merlin moved his to gently nudge the prince's fingers.

They were silent for another moment.

 

* * *

 

"Merlin! Hello! Are you listening? I'm going to go!" Merlin looked up in panic. They had sat back beside the stream to drink a few minutes before, but Merlin was still exhausted and he had spaced out a bit.

"What?! Arthur, I'm sorry I lied. Don't leave me here, please." Merlin started to get up, panic fueling him. No way would he would let Arthur leave him behind. He still had a destiny to fulfill. Arthur pushed him back down and rolled his eyes.

"No, idiot," he said softly. "If you had been listening, I was trying to tell you I'm going to go look for something for us to eat. There's no way we're going to last the day without food." Merlin relaxed back onto the ground.

"Oh." He blushed in embarrassment. "Okay."

Arthur pulled the guard's sword he stole the day before from his hilt and turned to go. "Come back soon," Merlin called after him, unsure, hoping to hide his insecurity with the casual remark. For a moment, he considered just following after Arthur to make sure he did come back.

"I will." Arthur turned back and gave Merlin a look that made him realize the sincerity of his words. He didn't need to follow him.

He would come back.

Arthur marched off into the trees, sword out.

 

* * *

 

Merlin sat and waited. He sat for what seemed like ages, but was actually only five minutes until he got restless and decided it was probably a good idea to try and clean up some of his wounds. The ache and itch that seemed to cover his entire body was overwhelming and the cool water of the stream called to him. He pulled himself off the ground and moved closer to the water. He removed his trousers carefully, making sure not to disturb the oozing hole where the arrow had hit him.

He grimaced. It looked infected. Merlin tore a piece of cloth off the bottom of his trousers, wet it in the stream, and hesitantly cleaned around the angry wound. He had nearly forgotten about being hit by the arrow; torture and branding took first priority; but now the pain was returning to his consciousness. He only thanked the gods that he wasn't going into shock and was somehow still able to move and walk around.

Merlin continued to clean his leg until he felt he had done all he could and then began peeling his tunic off the scabbing burns on his chest and arms. Morgana had only branded his torso, which he was grateful for, since he could still sit and walk. At the moment, however, the scabs stuck painfully to the scratchy fabric and as he slowly pulled it off his skin, the scabs started to come with it.

"Ow, damn it." Merlin muttered to himself. He managed to get his one forearm unstuck, but the pain was too much. A thought popped into his head.

He cautiously moved down into the stream and laid his torso in the water. The skin on his back protested being pressed into the rocky ground, but the cool water soaked into the fabric and soothed the itching and burning of the wounds.

"Oh my gods, that is nice." Merlin closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He could feel the tunic loosening from the scabs. He would be able to pull it off in a minute or two.

 _I'll get this shirt off, clean these stupid brands, Arthur will come back with some food, then we can go back to Camelot, and Gaius will know what to do. We'll fix this. I'll have my magic back in no time..._ He knew he was lying to himself, but he didn't care. He pushed back his fears, that Arthur wouldn't come back, that they would get caught again, that they won't be able to fix this in time, that Arthur would die and his magic would poison him until he never woke again. Merlin scrunched his face, pushing a hot tear out dripping down his cheek. He wiped at his face with his wet hand.

"You're so pathetic." Merlin shot up from the water, heart pounding. Only feet away stood the woman who took his magic, who placed her mark on his skin.

"Morgana." Merlin gaped. He pulled himself up to his feet, his thin breeches clinging to his thighs. Morgana smirked.

"Emrys." She took a step closer, her ebony hair waving in the light breeze, the patchy sunlight casting shadowy bags under her manic eyes. "Look at yourself. You're supposed to be the most powerful sorcerer in all of Albion and here you are, lying in a trickle of water in woods. Waiting for your handsome prince to return to you, hm? You know he'll never trust you again. He hates you." Merlin shivered in spite of himself. Morgana's arrival set a chill in the air. He stepped back, out of the stream, shaking his head.

"No, Morgana, you're wrong. He will listen, he'll trust me again. I would never do anything to hurt him. He has to see that." Merlin spoke earnestly. He knew he should run, get away from the dangerous witch, but he'd never get far. He wouldn't make it anywhere. His knees had already begun shaking in agreement.

"You think he'll believe anything you tell him? Oh, Merlin, you have always been so simple minded. The only thing he needs to know is that you are a sorcerer. That's it. He's judged you. When you return to Camelot, you're going straight to the pyre to burn."

"No!" Merlin shook his head. Morgana laughed at him. "He's going to listen." His voice dropped to a whisper. He collapsed to the ground, head in his hands. "He has to. I won't let him die... He can't die."

His body shook with fear and the biting chill of the morning. Morgana was silent.

"Merlin!"

Merlin looked back up to Morgana to find her gone, no sign that she had ever been there. Arthur was running out of the trees, sword first, looking ready for a battle.

"What is it, what were you yelling for?!" Arthur ran to Merlin's side and became confused at the state of his manservant. "Why are you all wet?... And where are your trousers? Good god, Merlin, I was only gone for ten minutes." He shook his head and knelt down, placing a warm hand on Merlin's forehead. "You're freezing... are you trying to kill yourself, or are you just that stupid?"

Merlin looked up at Arthur, then turned, searching the area for any sign that Morgana was around. His heart was still pounding.

"Did you see her? Did you see her leave?"

"Who?" Arthur carefully tried to pull the soaking wet tunic off of Merlin, so he could get him dry and warm.

"Morgana." Arthur paused and looked around at the woods. "She was just here... at least, I think she was..." Merlin pressed his hands into his eyes. His head throbbed.

"Merlin, there was no one here. I came back when I heard you yelling, but I didn't see anyone around and I didn't hear anyone else talking." The prince pulled one arm out of the tunic sleeve and then started to work on the other.

He watched Merlin with worry in his eyes. He'd seen knights returned to Camelot after torture and they were never the same, jumpy, scared, many rambling about seeing and hearing things that weren't there. Of course, Merlin had his whole magic thing to add to whatever happened to him, but Arthur had no idea if that would be better or worse than normal.

Arthur pulled Merlin's other arm out and began peeling the fabric from his back, which proved fairly easy because of how wet it was. Merlin sucked in shaky breaths as Arthur ran his hands gently around the painful wounds. Arthur hadn't seen the extent of what Morgana had done, but as he witnessed the aftermath, his anger flared inside his chest.

"Merlin."

"Hm?"

"Did Morgana...did she..." He paused, sucking in a shaky breath."Are these...brands?" Arthur clenched his fists. Merlin nodded sadly.

"Morgana marked my skin with an enchantment that keeps me from using my magic. It could have been done in blood or ink, but obviously it will last longer branded into my skin. And she got the added benefit of me screaming while she burned me." Merlin responded quietly.There was a sharp note of bitterness lacing his voice. Arthur touched cautiously at the edges of the brands. He continued slowly removing the wet tunic.

"Branding me was the last thing she did." Merlin spoke carefully. He wasn't sure how long Arthur would listen, if he would get angry again, but Merlin wanted to talk about what happened. He wanted to tell Arthur everything.

"When you were pulled out of the room, she hit me with spell after spell, some caused excruciating pain in every nerve, some caused dizziness, violent shaking, excessive bleeding. She just hit me again and again. I couldn't tell you for how long. I think she may have given me a truth serum because I remember her asking me a lot of questions and I told her what she wanted to know." Merlin paused, turning to look at Arthur. The prince had finished pulling the fabric from Merlin's back. Merlin looked into his eyes. "I think I told her everything."

"Can I-?" Arthur said, eyeing the wet cloth bunched up in his hands. Merlin nodded and Arthur pulled the tunic up over his head and off his body. The sorcerer sighed, feeling relieved to be freed from the wet, scratchy fabric. Arthur sucked in a gasp.

Merlin's torso looked as though he'd been trampled by horses. Intermixed with the angry red wounds were black and blue bruises.

Arthur stood suddenly, clenching his fists.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked. His voice still hesitant. "Are you alright?"

"Are you joking right now, Merlin!?" Arthur turned back to face the sorcerer. His eyes red, his expression was openly furious. "You're seriously asking _me_ if _I'm_ alright? Do you have no sense of self-preservation at all!? Look at yourself! Gods, Merlin! You look like you'reone step away from the grave!"

"Arthur, stop!" Merlin stood again, frustrated that for the second time today, he was having a shouting match with Arthur. He lowered his voice. "Yes, she hurt me, but I'm going to be fine once I heal a bit. We can't change that now. Screaming at me, though, is not going to help anything. I know you are upset that I didn't do anything, that I didn't tell you sooner about my magic, that I tried to kill Morgana. I understand that, but I was put through some hell yesterday, and I would appreciate it if maybe we could hold off on blaming all of this on me until we get back to Camelot, okay?!"

Arthur sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. He grabbed Merlin's shoulders and looked him in the eyes, eyes that were sparkling with gold, not just blue.

"You idiot. I'm not blaming this on you. I mean some of this is your fault, yes, and I'm upset about the whole-" Arthur wiggled his fingers around in the air,"magic thing, but I'm angry that you're nearly dead and I want to hurt Morgana for doing this to you...because...you know..." He trailed off, looking down at the ground.

"Who would get your baths ready if I were dead... right?" Merlin caught his eyes again and smirked.

"Yeah. Right." Arthur smiled softly and pulled Merlin into a gentle hug.

They separated and Merlin sat back on the ground and Arthur pulled off his dry tunic for Merlin to wear. Merlin looked at him confused when he offered it.

"Merlin, it's still cold, and I have an undershirt. You're not going to make it back to Camelot if you freeze..."

Arthur turned and walked slowly back into the trees to get something for them to eat, glancing back at Merlin pulling on his top before he was out of sight.

* * *

 

Arthur returned an hour later, grinning and holding a small rabbit. His stomach was growling at him so much that he was almost tempted just to eat the thing raw. They'd have to be careful with their fire, but at least he and Merlin would have some food in them soon.

The little stream came into view once again and Arthur looked around for Merlin, spotting him lying on the ground a short ways away from where he was when Arthur left. His back was facing Arthur, but he could see the rise of his breath in his body. _Well, he didn't die while I was gone. Yay._

"Merlin, wake up. I brought you something to eat. A tasty little bunny rabbit." He shook it in Merlin's direction, who didn't move. Arthur sat the rabbit and his sword down and walked over to shake Merlin awake.

"Merlin." He laid his hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Wake up."

The dark haired head turned and looked up at the prince.

"No!" Arthur jumped back. "How!? Where's Merlin!?"

"Is that any way to greet a lady, Arthur? Didn't your mother teach you any manners? Oh...right." Morgana slithered to her feet, standing before Arthur, tall and proud like a statue. She smirked at his surprise.

"What did you do with him?"

"What makes you think I did anything? Maybe he ran off by himself. It's not like he hasn't lied to you before..."

"Yeah, because you're totally innocent in all of this. He just beat himself up and took his own magic away too, right?" Morgana narrowed her eyes at Arthur.

"I would watch your back, Arthur. He tried to kill me. Never know who he might try and get rid of next..." Arthur scoffed.

"Merlin would never hurt me. He lied to me and went behind my back, but he'd never try and kill me."

"Not you, sure, but what about your father, what about Gwen, the knights, your friends. Merlin may be a clumsy idiot, but you should hear the stories of Emrys. He destroys anything that gets in his way."

"How is that any different from you, Morgana?! You murder and torture for your cause! You come to me, to what, tell me that Merlin is just like you and I should just let you take him, let you destroy anything good in him? What are you even doing here?!"

"I'm not." Morgana smirked.

Arthur opened his mouth to ask her what she was talking about when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned, reaching to his belt for his sword, when he realized he left it over by the stream with the rabbit. He also realized who he was trying to defend himself against.

"Arthur, what are you doing?"

"Merlin! Where were you?" Merlin motioned to the trees and shrugged.

"I had to pee... I didn't think you'd be shouting to yourself when I got back though... Can I ask if you're okay, or is that still a forbidden question?"

"I saw Morgana too." Merlin's eyes widened. He whipped his head around, scanning the trees.

"She wasn't really here, Merlin. We saw her in our heads... Some spell or something." He sighed and walked back to grab the rabbit from the ground. "Ready to eat?"

Merlin grinned.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter done, yay!
> 
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> Leave comments, kudos, whatever, they let me know what you liked/didn't like for next time.
> 
> :)


	6. Chapter 6

"Ready to go, Merlin. We need to get out of here fast before the smoke alerts Morgana's men." Arthur carefully put out their small fire that they had cooked their rabbit on. Merlin finished licking his fingers and nodded. He felt a lot better now that he had some food in his stomach.

"Yeah. Lets get out of here." He stood carefully and looked around at the trees surrounding them. "Arthur... You do know how to get back to Camelot, right?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. He turned his head to the sky, he pointed at the sun.

"See the sun. It's before midday, so it's in the eastern part of the sky. Before Morgana's men caught us, we were about two days on horse northeast of Camelot. From what I could tell when they were dragging us along, we were traveling east for half a day...then we left the castle and went...let's see...south for half a day." He picked up a stick and cleared an area of dirt and drew a quick map on the ground. "So, here's Camelot, here's where we were hunting, Morgana's castle, and where we should be now." He paused again, remembering all the maps he's memorized over the years. He drew in a few other landmarks and a river that crossed the area.

Merlin looked at Arthur's dirt map. It looked quite accurate and he could recognize the areas from maps in Arthur's chambers. He drew a line with his finger from where they were to Camelot.

"So if we go west through the wood, cross the river, pass through this village, and go southwest from there, we should be able to make it back in about a week, right?" Arthur looked at the route his manservant had drawn. He nodded. A look of displeasure passed over Merlin's face, but left before Arthur could see it.

"Yes. There are usually some traders around here next to the river, so we may be able to get some horses and get back sooner. For now, we'll have to go on foot. Are you alright to walk for a few hours?" Even though they had both eaten and got some rest, Arthur was still concerned about Merlin, especially after him waking up in the morning vomiting gold blood, which was still something they needed to discuss.

"Arthur, I'm feeling loads better. I hadn't eaten anything in ages. I think I just needed some food and some rest. The other things will heal...well...most of them. We should get a move on if we want to make it back." Merlin tugged at the sleeves of Arthur's tunic that was slightly too big for him. He was glad to be wearing something soft and dry though and his back only slightly throbbed in pain now.

The prince gave him a small smile and a nod before he brushed away their map with his foot. He made sure to grab his sword and cover the remains of their fire, and they headed slowly to the west, following their shadows on the ground.

* * *

Hours passed and their shadows now trailed dimly after them. The bright blue sky faded into a soft orange and the two young men marched on.

Arthur slowed his pace so he could walk a few steps behind Merlin, just to make sure he didn't walk too fast and leave his manservant behind. That didn't mean that he wasn't frustrated with how slow they were going, even if Merlin was just limping along, itching at his scabs and getting scolded by Arthur when he did.

"It's going to take us three days to get to the river at this rate...Merlin! Stop scratching at them!" Merlin rolled his eyes and turned around to face Arthur.

"Arthur, I am walking as fast as physically possible. Okay? We will make it back to Camelot before the two weeks are up...if only we had a horse...or...Oh!" Merlin's eyes lit up. He grimaced. "You're not going to like this Arthur."

"Not like what? Wait...what about two weeks? What are you talking about?" Merlin had started limping away, his eyes lit with excitement over a new plan. Arthur followed him, confused and uneasy about the sudden shift in mood,

"Merlin, hello? Two weeks? What is that about?" A hand grabbed Merlin gently on the shoulder. The sorcerer stopped. He took a breath.

"Ummm... well. It's two weeks until we die." Merlin muttered quickly. Arthur frowned, then thought about what Merlin said, then frowned again.

"What's that now? We die?!" Merlin turned around. The excitement had drained from his eyes. He suddenly looked ten years older.

"Um, yes. I forgot I haven't really told you everything I guess... So, Morgana wants me to murder your father-"

"Yes, she said that. And what? She gave you two weeks before she comes to kill us?"

"Not exactly. She's kind of already set that part up. Um...I think she marked you somewhere, with a spell." Arthur nodded and held out his arm. The thin red symbol was out of place on his tanned skin. Merlin ran his fingers along the lines of the symbol and sighed.

"That symbol is for a curse that will do nothing to you until the specified time. Then, it will just kill you. So, if I don't kill the king, this little mark will kill you." Merlin began to walk away, but stopped when Arthur grabbed his hand.

"Merlin, what about you? Did she give you one too? I mean, you said we..." The younger man looked at the ground.

"No, Arthur. She didn't give me one. I a more interesting death than you do, unfortunately." Arthur waited for him to continue. "The marks that Morgana branded on my skin, they're a spell. It keeps me from expelling any power, so I still have my magic, I just can't use it. I get to be slowly poisoned by my magic until it destroys me from the inside. Isn't that great?" He turned to face Arthur again and his eyes were filling with tears. He smiled bitterly and pulled his hand from Arthur's grasp before limping away toward a clearing in the trees.

Arthur was about to say something when Merlin stopped in the center, planted his feet, and began shouting words he couldn't understand into the sky. Arthur was surprised. Merlin sounded so powerful, his body stood tall and straight, and the words held an air of authority, like not only was he demanding something, but he was in the position to be able to demand it. Merlin finished shouting, took a big breath, and collapsed to the ground. Arthur ran to his side, his hands moving over Merlin's body, checking for signs of life. Merlin sat up slowly, blinking, and watching Arthur.

"Merlin!? Are you okay? What was that? What were you shouting for?" The prince was panicked. He thought perhaps Morgana had taken control of his friend, or Merlin was out of his mind. Merlin placed a hand on Arthur's arm.

"Calm down, you clot pole. You worry too much." Merlin gave him a tired smile and Arthur rolled his eyes. "I just forgot how much energy that takes is all."

"How much energy what takes? Merlin, what were you doing?" Merlin patted his hand on the ground. Arthur sighed and sat in the clearing next to him.

"So, you remember that dragon that attacked Camelot?"

"...You mean the dragon I killed." Arthur looked suspicious. Merlin gave him a sheepish smile.

"Yeah...heh. Not so much killed actually."

"What." The prince was not amused. Merlin took a deep breath and started to explain.

"Well, see... I banished the dragon after he attacked Camelot and I told you that you killed it so you wouldn't ask any questions, even though you got knocked out pretty early in fighting and didn't remember fighting the dragon, but you're always keen to take credit for those things, so I figured I could count on you to not ask about that. Then, the dragon was okay with helping me again, because he helped me with some magic stuff before when he was locked up under the castle, but he was okay with helping me because I decided to spare his life, so now I asked him to come here and give us a ride to just outside Camelot, well, I say asked, but it was more ordered because that's how that whole Dragon Lord thing works..."

The panting sorcerer was met with a blank stare. He bit his lip and waved his hand in front of Arthur's face. Arthur shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Let me get this straight. You're not only a sorcerer, but you're a Dragon Lord, and you've been getting advice from the dragon that attacked Camelot and is still free to roam the land?" Merlin nodded.

"Pretty much sums it up."

"Wait. If you're a Dragon Lord, why did we have to go in the woods and find that other man... Balford, or whatever his name was?" Merlin flinched at the reminder of his lost father. He turned away from Arthur and looked up to the sky, pretending to search for the outstretched wings of the Great Dragon.

"Merlin?" Arthur's voice was soft. He knew that look. The look of a man in mourning. Merlin mumbled something that he couldn't understand. "What was that?"

"Balinor. His name was Balinor. I-He-"Merlin wiped at his eyes. "I wasn't a Dragon Lord until he died... It's...it's passed from father to son when the father...when he dies."

Arthur drew in a breath at the realization. That strange man in the woods...the man that Arthur had told Merlin wasn't worth his tears...it was his father. He had died right in front of Merlin.

"Merlin...I-" Arthur started, his tone dripping with pity.

"The dragon's here." Merlin struggled to his feet and stood once again tall and proud, like he had been before he collapsed. Enormous wings sent dirt and dead leaves flying in all directions. Planting his feet, Arthur rose and stood unsure behind Merlin.

The Great Dragon was just as huge as ever. His shimmering scales glimmered in the fading light of the evening sun. The prince suddenly felt as though he was a child again. He was afraid and he was angry. This beast, this magical creature, had killed many of Camelot's people, had threatened to destroy their kingdom, and here it was, standing in front of him, alive and terrifying. Arthur fought the urge to surge forward and drive his sword through the beast's chest. Merlin felt his uneasiness and reached back and grabbed his hand. Arthur felt some of his tension leave his body and he drew slightly closer to his friend.

"Young warlock, I sense a great disturbance in your destiny." The dragon's voice echoed like thunder. Arthur felt a chill trickle down his spine.

"Kilgharrah. We need to get back to Camelot immediately. Morgana and her men captured us. She took my magic away and has ordered me to murder Uther. If I don't, Arthur and I will die in a fortnight." Merlin swayed slightly, but he kept his hand tight around Arthur's. Arthur gazed up at the dragon, wondering if it would agree to take them.

"Merlin, I will take you both back to Camelot, but you must know that the choices you make now could change your future and the future of Albion." Merlin bowed his head in respect of what the dragon told him.

"Thank you. I will remember that." The two men moved slowly to Kilgharrah's side. The dragon laid his body on the ground and tipped to the side to help Merlin climb on his back. The sorcerer reached his arms up, pulled, then dropped back to the ground, hissing in pain.

"Merlin, let me give you a boost." Arthur caught the pain-filled eyes of his friend. He was trying to be so strong, fighting back the excruciating pain, and it hurt Arthur that he couldn't help more. All of things Merlin had to go through, had to hide, no one should have had to go through that. Especially not alone.

"Yeah." Merlin breathed a gentle laugh. "That's probably a better idea. Careful of your shoulder...your arrow wound." Arthur waved his hand.

"Nah. It's fine. Come on. Hop up." Arthur knelt down and linked his hands together.

A few minutes later, the prince and the sorcerer were clinging to the scaly back of the giant winged lizard. Arthur pressed his chest into Merlin's back, telling himself that he was so close to keep Merlin from falling off, but he also took small comfort in the warmth of his body through the fabric of Arthur's tunic.

The dragon lifted his wings into the air.

"Ready?" Kilgharrah asked.

"Nah, I think I'd like to stay another day..." Merlin said sarcastically. "YES. Let's get out of here, please."

The dragon chuckled and flapped his powerful wings. They were on their way to Camelot. They were on their way home.

* * *

Arthur held tight to Merlin with one arm and to one of the dragons scales with the other. Merlin hadn't moved, but the gentle rise of his chest told Arthur he was passed out. The chilly evening air whipped past them as the dragon soared across the land. Arthur watched as landmarks, he vaguely recognized, were left behind.

The river that would have taken days to reach, the countless trees, one or two villages that were settling into the night with the warm glow of candlelight through the open windows of people's homes. Arthur wondered what life would be like if he were born into a life in a village like those. He wondered if he would be happier, if the simplicity wouldn't drive him mad, if not having the responsibilities of a prince would make his life better. The thoughts crossed his mind more since he had met Merlin, the blathering idiot prattled on so much about anything that he'd learned more about the lives of commonfolk than he'd known before. He subconsciously pulled Merlin tighter to his chest, longing for this closeness he could never have, for a life he could never live.

Kilgharrah dropped heavily to the ground. Arthur looked up, confused and frantic.

"Why are we here, dragon? This is still a day's ride away from Camelot." Merlin began to stir in Arthur's grasp, but still didn't awaken.

The dragon turned his head towards the prince.

"This is as far as I can take you. Merlin has forbidden me from entering the boundaries of Camelot again...and after what happened last time, I figure you would agree with his decision." Kilgharrah spoke casually, referencing when he nearly destroyed the kingdom like it was nothing.

"Yes, that's fine." Arthur replied sharply. "Thank you for taking us this far."

Arthur shook Merlin gently and twisted him around so he could see his face.

"Merlin, hey, you need to wake up. Meeerrrrrrrlin. Waaaaake uuuup." He sighed. "Merlin! We're falling off the dragon! AAAHHH!"

Merlin jolted up, gasping and reaching out for something to hold onto, actually ending up nearly falling off the dragon before Arthur caught him.

"Wha-" He glared at Arthur, who was grinning sheepishly. Merlin groaned and pulled himself back up onto the dragon's back, so Arthur could release him. Searing pain shot out from his chest. He sucked in a breath and brushed away the prince's concerned looks and wandering hands seeking to comfort him.

"Sorry, you weren't waking up, so...y'know I-" Arthur explained himself, but Merlin shook his head, interrupting the prince's excuses with his pained words.

" -'s fine, Arthur. Just give me a second and we can go." He motioned to the ground. "Why don't you get down first and then you can help me get down."

Arthur nodded. After a little maneuvering, he hopped down from Kilgharrah's back and landed carefully on the ground. He took a moment to survey the area.

They landed in a small grassy pasture that was surrounded almost completely by trees. A thin dirt path led out of the wood and passed by fields growing crops. In the distance, a small village lay quiet and dark. The moon above them was nearly full and cast eerie shadows through the leaves of the trees.

Merlin cleared his throat.

"Arthur." He looked down expectantly.

"Ready?" Holding out his arms, Arthur waited. Kilgharrah leaned over slightly to make it a little easier for Merlin to get down. The sorcerer nodded, took a deep breath and leapt down to his friend.

 Immediately after Arthur caught him, he dropped him carefully to the ground. The impact of his landing opened a few scabs on Merlin's torso. He dropped his head between his knees and bit back a scream of pain. Arthur angrily ran forward to Kilgharrah's massive head.

"Can't you do anything?! Don't you dragons have healing powers or something?! Are you just useless?!" The dragon stood back up, his form towering above the small prince. Kilgharrah lowered his head to speak directly to Arthur.

"I know you're scared, young prince. There is nothing that I can do for Merlin now. The best that you can do now is keep him safe and support your friend. He needs you now more than ever. Remember, your choice here will play a major part in the future of Camelot. Choose wisely." He raised his head back up.

"What? What does that even mean?" Arthur shouted. The dragon lifted his wings. "Wait! What are you talking about!?" Kilgharrah said nothing, walked away from the two men, and flew away. Arthur watched confused and still upset.

"He does that." Merlin called out, sounding amused at Arthur's frustration. He held a hand out. "Help me up?"

Arthur walked over and pulled him to his feet. He quickly looked Merlin over. A few spots of blood soaked through the tunic, he was breathing heavily, his eyes were red with unshed tears, and he looked like he was about to keel over...again, but otherwise, still alive and still breathing.

Arthur gave him a soft smile. Merlin returned it with a frown.

"Don't."

"What?" Arthur shrugged. "What'd I do?"

"You pity smiled at me...like I'm some pathetic dying kitten. I'm not, okay? I'm- I'm fine." His voice broke one the last word. He looked away. Arthur wanted to comfort him, to take him away from all of this, to protect him. _Is it weird that I'm feeling this? For Merlin? It must be the situation we're in. He's gone through so much, of course, I'm feeling this..._ He shook away his thoughts.

"Merlin."

"Let's just go." Merlin walked toward the dirt path. Arthur followed after him.

* * *

Walking in silence lasted about three minutes. Arthur should have seen it coming, though. He was with Merlin, after all. Merlin stopped abruptly, turned around, and sighed before speaking.

"Arthur. What are we going to do when we get back? I know we obviously need to get to Gaius, so he can treat our...y'know..everything, but I'm supposed to kill your father and I'm not going to do that, so we're going to die, and then Morgana is going to take over and kill everyone and it'll be my fault because I should have talked to her when I first figured out she had magic and-" Arthur shoved his hand over Merlin's mouth. He leaned in close, so they were eye-to-eye.

"I need you to listen really close to me, okay, Merlin?" Merlin nodded, the panic still evident in his eyes. "We are going to get back to Camelot, figure this out, and we are not going to die. Got it?" Merlin nodded again. "Good. Now, shut up." Arthur smiled and released his hand.

They started walking again in silence, until Merlin looked over at Arthur.

"Arthur?" The prince rolled his eyes. _What now?_

"What, Merlin?" He said exasperated.

"Um, I just wanted to say thank you. I know you're not really comfortable with the whole magic thing...and after this, why would you be... but I really appreciate that y'know..." Merlin didn't finish his sentence. He just smiled and continued walking. Arthur hesitated.

"You're welcome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How good is this? I have no idea. It might be okay, or not. There's still quite a bit of story to go though, so hopefully I figure out where I'm heading with this.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading another chapter.  
> Leave comments and kudos, I always like to hear how I'm doing, because I honestly can't tell...


	7. Chapter 7

The village was quiet and dark when by the time they limped in past the furthest buildings. Now at the peak of its journey across the night sky, the moon watched over them, fat, silent, and luminous.

The two men wandered past dark house after dark house, nearing closer to the one lit building near the center of the small village.

"At last, a place to sleep. Let's hope they have some beds open." Arthur smiled at Merlin and walked up to the inn, pulled the heavy door open and let Merlin limp in first.

The inn was quiet, the tavern empty, and the innkeeper sat behind the bar, whittling a stick, obviously bored. He glanced up at the sound of the door opening, then went back to his stick. He paused and then looked back up, taking in the condition of his visitors.

"By God, what on earth happened to you two?" He stood from his stool and dropped his knife and stick on the bar. Arthur waved his concerns away.

"Long story. Do you have any beds open? We need a place to stay for the night." The innkeeper looked at Arthur, then at Merlin, then back at Arthur.

"We might have a bed open. I'm not sure though..." He paused, then looked pointedly at Arthur, who was obviously the cleaner and wealthier of the two men. Arthur rolled his eyes and pulled a small satchel from his trousers that somehow wasn't taken during his time in captivity. He walked over to the bar in front of the other man. Merlin followed slowly after him.

"I can pay, of course." The innkeeper grinned. He pulled out the inn-record book, flipped it open, and scanned the numbers.

"Ah. I have one bed open, lucky for you two. We're usually full up by this time." Arthur looked disappointed and looked from Merlin, and back to the innkeeper.

"Are you sure you only have one bed open? I have the money, I assure you. Perhaps a mat for the floor? My manservant doesn't need a bed..." Merlin looked up at that remark and glared at the back of Arthur's head. The innkeeper's demeanor changed, as he realized that Arthur was someone of status.

"I do apologize, my lord. We get many travelers here. We do have a small stable in back with hay if you prefer your manservant sleep there." Merlin moved his glare to the innkeeper now. The innkeeper looked smug back at him. Arthur backed off, realizing he wasn't going to win this argument.

"No, it's fine. We'll take the bed." Arthur motioned at Merlin. "He can just sleep on the floor." Now Merlin looked appalled, but Arthur ignored him and just paid the innkeeper. Arthur walked to the stairs and Merlin shared one last annoyed look with the smug man before he followed after him. Once they were out of eyesight, Merlin poked Arthur in the side. Arthur flinched and turned to roll his eyes.

"Really?"

"You're going to make me sleep on the floor?" Merlin was annoyed. After the last few days, he would have preferred sleeping in the hay in the stable. He considered just going out there anyways. He almost said so, when Arthur interrupted his thoughts.

"No, idiot. You're sleeping on the bed. I'll just sleep on the floor. It's fine." Merlin's brain blanked.

"What."

"What? I can't be nice, for once?" Merlin just looked at him, suspiciously.

"No. You can't." Arthur smiled at Merlin's response.

"You sound like you, Merlin." He laughed softly. They reached the top of the stairs and found the door to their room. "Come on, we need to get some sleep. We have a long day tomorrow."

They sneaked in quietly, walking carefully past the sleeping form in the two other beds. Their empty bed was at the end of the room and Merlin stood conflicted in front of it. Arthur pushed gently at his back.

"Just lie down." He whispered. Merlin's heart pounded. He turned to Arthur.

"Arthur..." He closed his eyes. He considered putting words to his thoughts, to the desires he had in his heart. Then, he shook his head and turned away. "Good night."

"Good night, Merlin." Arthur sank to the floor and laid down on the hard wood boards. A soft object landed suddenly on his face and he shot up. A pillow. Merlin looked at him from the bed, sheepish and shrugging. He threw a sheet down at Arthur too, smiled and lay down.

Arthur was uncomfortable and his shoulder hurt from the arrow still, but he fell asleep and dreamed about Merlin's smile.

* * *

Merlin lay awake in the bed, after waking abruptly from a nightmare. He tried to clear his mind, tried to forget about everything that had happened and everything that still lay in front of them, but the ache in his chest and the emptiness in his body were the continual reminder that their situation was not good. He sat up and looked down at the floor where Arthur slept. He took comfort in Arthur's calm, his reassurance, but Merlin doubted his nonchalance about all of it. Merlin trusted Arthur...with his life, but Arthur seemed to think that this was going to be an easy thing to fix.

 _Maybe because I've always fixed things without him knowing about it._ Merlin worried. _Everything works out fairly well because he doesn't know how close we've gotten to...well...being killed... I've never told him, so how would he realize it's more than luck that's keeping him alive._

His gaze turned to the small window in their room. A hazy darkness shadowed most of the village. Clouds drifted in throughout the night and blanketed the light from the moon. Merlin's thoughts turned to his mother. She often told him when he lay awake at night, scared of what he would dream, that he was so brave and they would walk to the window and make up stories about the stars. They would name them, the little pinpoints of light, and the stars would go on adventures. They were bright and virtuous, so any obstacles they came across were defeated. His mother let him make up stories until he fell asleep. Merlin longed for her to be there with him and make up stories about the noble stars again. He also didn't want her to see him like this, wounded, broken, and lost. A sigh escaped his lungs.

He fell asleep again, and dreamed about the stars going out.

* * *

"Merlin... Merlin, wake up." Arthur nudged Merlin's foot that stuck out of the bottom of the blanket. Merlin groaned and buried his face in the pillow.

"Nrrrhhmmmgghhh." Merlin mumbled. Arthur rolled his eyes and pulled the blanket from the bed.

"Merlin, we need to get going now...enough beauty sleep. There's food downstairs." Arthur pushed Merlin's feet to the middle of the bed and sat down. Merlin pulled his face out of the pillows and twisted around.

"Mmm tired." His hands reached up and rubbed excess sleep from his eyes. His body ached and he felt exhausted, but the brands had all scabbed up and were starting to heal, so he didn't feel as terrible as he did yesterday.

"Well, you're lucky I let you sleep on the bed. Heh, I feel like a horse stomped on my neck." Arthur chucked, but Merlin just looked miserable.

"Sorry, I barely slept at all. You might as well have taken the bed..." Arthur waved him off and stood up.

"Get dressed." He threw him some clothes. "Bought these for you. They're clean. I, uh, bought some clean bandages and ointment from the shop. We can try and fix up your leg a bit. How are you feeling?"

Merlin caught the clothes. He ran his hands over the coarse fabric. Arthur busied himself with preparing the ointment and getting some water and cloths to help Merlin clean himself up. It was quiet in the room. The two other beds were empty and remade. The window was open and a gentle breeze wafted in.

"I'm okay, I guess. Still sore...but it's not as painful. I think it's starting to heal a bit...hopefully none of them are infected..." Merlin looked up at the other man. "How's your shoulder?"

Arthur pulled his collar over, revealing a clean white bandage.

"It's fine. I had the man down at the shop fix me up when I bought some supplies. You...you wanna fix up your leg now?" He pulled a chair over to the edge of the bed and sat some supplies on the floor. He sat down in the chair and let Merlin get situated. He pulled his trouser leg gently over the arrow wound and winced. They had only had enough time to wrap it with some ripped off cloth. The blood had seeped through and dribbled down his leg. It looked like it had stopped bleeding, since all the blood was dried and crusted on the skin.

Arthur pulled Merlin's leg on his lap, cut the dirty bandage off, and began cleaning up. Merlin clenched his teeth and hissed when he got too close to the wound and Arthur paused and gave him a concerned look.

"Hey, you okay?" Merlin nodded.

"Yeah. Fine. You can keep going." Arthur smiled softly and continued working.

He laid a hand on Merlin's ankle to keep steady while he worked. Merlin flinched again and reached out and grabbed his hand. A moment later, he realized what he had done and went to pull away, but Arthur turned his hand around and held it back. Merlin looked away and blushed.

The prince finished fixing him up, all bandaged and cleaned. Merlin relaxed and pulled his trouser leg back down. Arthur walked over to the dresser in the room and cleaned his hands up.

Merlin changed into the clean clothes Arthur had brought for him, they grabbed all their stuff and went downstairs to eat.

* * *

"How is it that nobody in this village has a spare horse? I mean we'll bring it back..." Arthur sat down in the dirt next to a building. They had been wandering for an hour asking everyone if they had a horse or knew someone who had a horse, but they had no luck. Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Arthur, these people don't just have extra horses lying around. If they have managed to afford a horse and afford caring for it, they're not going to risk never getting it back just to be nice to a couple of strangers." Merlin sat down next to Arthur. He sighed. "We can still walk back. It's not that far. Maybe we'll be lucky and run into one of the patrols on the way back..."

"Yeah. I guess. It feels like we've been gone for ages..." He looked over at Merlin. "It's been, what, five days?"

"Yeah. It's strange. I feel like I've aged twenty years. Everything just feels so heavy now. Well, heavier than it did before." The sorcerer pulled at his sleeves absently.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, before, I could kind of ignore everything, you know? Things that I've done... they were secrets that I kept and I could tell myself that I had to make the hard choices and let that be that. Now, though, I don't know. It feels like I've made all the wrong choices. Now that you know, I feel so ashamed of what I've done, like they weren't choices that you would have made..." He shook his head, frustrated by his conflicting thoughts. "I mean, I wouldn't go back and change any of it, everything that I've done has kept you alive and I'm glad for that, but the idea of you knowing, for one that I have magic, and another, that I've done some awful things, I don't know... I just feel sick."

Arthur placed his hand on Merlin's arm, hoping to offer some comfort. He took a moment to consider what Merlin told him. The situation was plain bad and the trust between the two of them had taken a lot of damage, but Arthur was sure it could be repaired in time. He wasn't furious with Merlin anymore, or afraid of him, he was just unsure. There was this whole aspect of his friend, a second life in the shadows, that he had no idea how to work with. Merlin had played the fool for so long, had played the damsel in distress for Arthur to save, that now, he was just confused on how their relationship was to continue. Arthur indulged in his worries for only a moment before pushing them away. They had more important problems to worry about, like not dying at the end of their two weeks and figuring out what to do about Morgana.

"Merlin. We've both done things we're not proud of. Remember when you first came to Camelot, how much of a prat I was?" Merlin smiled at the memory. The confrontation in the courtyard. The fight in the market.

"You tried to take my head off with a mace." Merlin pointed out, eyes glittering mischievously.

"Exactly. I probably would have if it hadn't gotten stuck...I'm glad I didn't though." He added the last comment quietly.

"You're welcome, then." Merlin laughed. "It's a good thing you aren't very observant." The princes mouth dropped when he realized what Merlin was implying.

"You used magic?" Arthur said indignantly. He laughed. "How have you not been caught yet?"

"Well... won't matter anymore..." The cold tension between then returned. In that moment, Arthur made a decision.

"Stop, Merlin." He turned so he was looking him straight in the eyes. "If we are going to get through this, we need to be together on this, okay? We are going to get through this. I trust you, maybe not as much as I did before, but I do trust you. I understand that you've done things in your past, and you don't have to tell me anything. I get it, I've done things too. I want you to understand, though." He paused, sucking in a shaky breath. "I will do everything to help you get your magic back. I promise."

With tear-filled eyes, Merlin looked away.

"Arthur. Do you even understand what you're saying right now?" He looked back, determined, but scared. "This is treason. If anyone finds out, I will be put to death and you'll be thrown in the dungeons and punished. I can't ask you to do this." He shook his head. "When we get back, we'll figure out how to get that curse off of you, but getting my magic back is a lost cause. It's too dangerous."

"Okay, first of all, you don't even know how to get your magic back yet, so maybe it's super easy, and second of all, I'm not letting you die and that's final, so we are going back to Camelot and saving both of our lives. That's an order. Got it?"

Merlin knew the argument was lost. Arthur already looked smug.

"Fine."

Arthur grinned.

* * *

At the outskirts of the town, there was a field. Wildflowers danced gently in the breeze. Grasses grew tall and green around the fence at the edge of the main path the two men walked on. In the field, there was a small house and a barn. The barn looked old, but well-maintained, and the sounds of livestock echoed from the openings in the roof. Outside the barn, was a wooden cart, full of bags of grains, folded slabs of leather, and various farming tools. A man and a woman, middle aged with greying hair, walked out from behind the barn, carrying a crate each, and talking together.

Merlin and Arthur looked at each other, and they walked in the fence toward the couple.

"Uh, hey!" Arthur called out. "Do you have a horse we could borrow? We can pay. We just need to get to Camelot as soon as possible."

A strange look passed over the woman's face before she suddenly shouted.

"By God's name! You're the prince, ain't ya? Oh, look at ya poor things!" She scurried over to them and stuck her hands all over Merlin's face, pulling at his cheeks and fussing with his hair. Her calloused hands rubbed dirty prints on his face and in her excitement, she bumped elbows and wide hips into Merlin's side, causing him to suck in an unnoticed pained breath.

Arthur looked irritated at the woman's imposition. Running her hands all over his manservant. It was uncalled for. However, it was Merlin's face of extreme discomfort that set the prince expertly drawing the woman's attention away for a less touchy discussion.

"Yes, we've both been through quite a lot, and Camelot would be very gracious if you could help us get back." The woman's eyes grew wide and excited. She turned to her husband.

"Didja hear that Donald? The kingdom needs us! Us!" She practically jumped back around to Arthur. "Oh, your highness, Donald was just getting prepared to make a trip to Camelot to make some sales. You can two can ride in the cart. Oh! Let me get you boys some food for the trip!" Donald smiled fondly at her wife as she bounded back to her house. Donald stood next to his cart, pushing the crates in and making room for the two extra men to fit.

"She's always loved mothering people. Gets a bit crazy sometimes." Donald explained.

Arthur and Merlin smiled sadly, both missing their mothers in different ways.

"It's fine. My mother's the same way." Merlin added. He thought about how when he would come home to the village, his mother complained about how skinny he was and feed him until he was full, then she'd force him to bed early, but they would stay awake late into the night talking. He felt so guilty for leaving her.

Arthur shuffled his feet in the dirt. Donald placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Your mother was a wonderful queen, sire. We've heard many stories about you in the recent years. She would have been so proud of you." Arthur nodded in thanks and cleared his throat. Not the time to get emotional. Merlin nudged his side and their eyes met for a moment. The quiet and warmth of his look comforted Arthur.

"Edith! They don't need that much food!" Donald shouted. Edith was waddling out of the house carrying two sacks stuffed with bread and cheeses. "It's only a few hours to the citadel!"

Edith rolled her eyes. She passed the sacks over to the boys and patted them on the shoulders, meeting their eyes with her own.

"I've only heard stories of you boys, y'know, retold gossip in the village market, but I am so honored that 'm able to give you any help. Prince Arthur, Merlin, I pray you return safely home and get yourselves all sorted. I know you're destined to do great things." She smiled, turned and kissed her husband, and went to get the horses.

Merlin looked shocked.

"People know who I am?" He asked to no one in particular. Donald let out a breathy laugh.

"Of course, son. A young peasant boy appointed to be the prince's manservant after only a few days in Camelot...because you saved his life. We've all heard stories of the prince's battles with sorcery and magic, and you're always a part of the stories, helping out wherever you can. Never very far behind the prince...What do they always say...? Oh, lean and clumsy, with dark hair and blue eyes, and never more than an arm's length away from the prince." Donald grinned. A blush formed across Merlin's face.

"Oh. Heh. Didn't think anyone would talk about a servant... I'm not that special..." Arthur jabbed him in the side, and Merlin gasped in pain. He turned to glare at Arthur who sent him an apologetic look.

"Sorry, forgot." Arthur shrugged. The farmer looked between the two men, realizing the truth behind all the stories about the prince and his manservant, about the blind devotion the two had for each other, devotion that surpassed class and status.

"Donald! Help me hook 'em up, please, dear." Edith skipped out of the barn door, trailed by two slow, lanky horses. Donald helped latch them in and said his goodbyes to his wife.

"I'll be back in a few days, love."

"I'll be waiting at the door for you."

Merlin and Arthur allowed them some privacy as they shared a kiss and traded 'I love you's'. Edith walked over, one last time, to Arthur and Merlin, giving each of them a hug.

"Good luck, boys." Her eyes glistened with tears. Even though they had only been there for a few minutes, she had already adopted the boys as her own in her mind, and now she was sending them off. 

"Thank you, Edith." Arthur replied.

"Thanks." Merlin said with a smile.

Arthur helped Merlin up onto the cart, following him up shortly after, and the three men headed off, down the path home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, the next chapter..done. I made this a little less traumatic than the last ones, give the boys a little rest and reprieve before everything else. This is going to be a slow-burn Merthur, but they will get there, I promise. I wanted to try and make it more realistic build up before they start mackin on each other.
> 
> Let me know in the comments what you think, I'm trying hard to get their characterization right, but it's hard when they get set in a pattern that's not quite right, y'know. 
> 
> Hopefully, I'll be able to get the next chapter up in the next two weeks, but don't hold me to that.
> 
> Anyways, leave kudos or comments if you liked it, I appreciate that you are reading this and thanks for sticking with me!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of clarification before this chapter, obviously this is set after Morgana betrays Camelot. Uther is still king, he was pretty hurt by the betrayal, but he managed to push past it and still runs the kingdom. Also, there will be a little bit of location stuff in this chapter and I have no idea what any actual medieval cities are or where anything is and since Camelot is an unknown as to where it was, I'm going to make up names, but I'll try to tell about where they are in relation to things with exposition.  
> Sorry its been so long. *insert excuses about school and finals and grad school apps here*
> 
> Thanks for reading!

"Your majesty, we have received word from the patrol trailing the prince."

Uther's face tightened into a frown. The tension was visible in his brow. The kingdom was extremely busy preparing for the arrival of the council and yet his son was off, gallivanting in the woods with that manservant of his. He shook his head and ran a hand over his face before answering the pageboy.

"Yes, what word has come?"

"The patrols have found their horses and supplies in the wood just past Catheron, sire." Uther's frustration immediately drained away. His pulse quickened.

"And Arthur? Where is he?" The pageboy's eyes darted about the room.

"The patrol has not found any sign of the prince, your majesty." The king's eyes squeezed shut.

"Leave." A silent bow and the doors opened and shut again.

The council chambers were empty, save for two guards at the door, yet the pounding in Uther's head was deafening. Morgana's recent betrayal had left him weakened and paranoid, seeing magic in his dreams, keeping weapons at arm's reach wherever he went. He was sure that magic was behind his son's disappearance, and he would tear apart every sorcerer in the land to find him.

His hands tightened into fists, and he shot out of his chair.

"Guards!" The two men at the door stiffened at the address. They nodded.

"Bring me Sir Leon. Tell him to have the knights ready to leave by midday."

"Yes, your majesty." One of the guards left. Uther busied himself, pulling out maps and charts, readying a plan to lay siege to the magic users who dare live in his kindgom.

* * *

"-and she told them the she'd rather eat the feather off a dead chicken than buy anything from his shop ever again!" Donald laughed, his eyes lighting up with amusement at his own story. He seemed to be glad to have someone to talk to, the fact that it was the crown prince of Camelot that he was boring to death didn't bother him at all. Arthur gave him a small smile, not wanting to be rude to the man that was carting them home. He looked up to the sun, for the third time in the last ten minutes, groaning internally at the sluggish passage of time.

They had left Donald and Edith's farm only an hour ago. The gentle rocking of the cart sending Merlin off to sleep instantly, and Donald had decided that he was going to tell Arthur every single moment of his life, and his wife's life, and the lives of every person that his wife heard about in the market, which might sound like the worst thing ever, but Arthur had just been kidnapped, shot with an arrow and found out his best friend had been lying to him since he had met him, so it was actually the worst thing ever... Arthur was jealous that Merlin was sleeping so soundly. They were both sat in the back of Donald's cart, leaned up against a pile of sacks of grain. Merlin had ever so slowly tipped with each bump in the road, so his head was resting gently on Arthur's shoulder. The prince looked at his sleeping friend, smiled, then paused noticing a slight twitch in Merlin's lips.

 _Was that a smile....? Wait. Is he even asleep...?_ Arthur turned his head closer, narrowing his eyes and whispered.

"Meeeerrrrlin." Nothing. No twitching.

"Merlin. You're really missing out on Donald's super interesting stories. I hope you aren't pretending to sleep right now..." He watched for any sign that his friend was faking it, turning his head closer, almost touching Merlin's face with his own. Then the cart hit a bump and Merlin's eye shot open. Arthur, wide-eyed, let out a noise, not quite a gasp and not quite a scream, but a bit like a baby deer would make if you picked it up and hugged it really hard. The prince then flung himself away, leaving Merlin to topple over, landing hard on his right arm.

"Ow." Merlin lay still, eyes shut, waiting for the waves of unexpected pain to subside. Arthur winced and moved slowly back over, sparing a glance at Donald who was still chattering on.

"Sorry." He reached out his hands to help, but hesitated, unsure, not wanting to cause Merlin more pain than he already had. "Can I-? Sorry. Do you want some help?"

Blue eyes turned to glare up at him.

" 'm fine. I got it." Merlin grimaced as he pushed himself back up. The sacks of grain scratched at his back with every movement of the cart, and now his arm was throbbing. He groaned. "I feel like shit. This is worse than that time I almost died."

"Oh really? Which time?" Arthur smirked. Merlin rolled his eyes, but smiled as well.

"I don't know, all of them combined." He sighed. "I should be stronger than this, though. I need to just push through this, but-."

"Merlin, shut up. Do you have any idea what you've been through the past few days? And you're here complaining that you need to be stronger? Merlin, you were shot, kidnapped, branded, tortured, and not to mention, a certain something taken away from you, on top of us having to wander through the woods with hardly any water or food for three days. Please, give yourself a break." He pulled Merlin's hand into his own. "You are the strongest man I know, Merlin."

"Even now?"

"Especially now." Merlin's lips quirked up into a small smile. He breathed out a heavy breath, weighted with worries and pain, and laid his head back on Arthur's shoulder.

"Getting soft, Pendragon." He whispered fondly. Arthur smiled, rolling his eyes. The weight of Merlin's head on his shoulder ached his arrow wound, but the warmth blossoming in his stomach was a welcome change from the cold nausea of the last few days. He was sure he would regret letting Merlin stay there in a few hours when his arm inevitably fell off, but for now it was nice.

The air was warm around them and the golden sun blanketed the yellow fields around the dusty dirt road. They were okay.

* * *

Flickering shadows on his eyelids awoke Arthur from his brief reprieve from consciousness. He stretched up, carefully avoiding moving his shoulder and the sleeping man on it.

"Have a nice nap, didja?" Arthur blinked slowly, rubbed at his eyes, and turned to the man at the front of the cart. He shrugged.

"I guess. Wasn't expecting to fall asleep... How far are we from Camelot, Donald?" The sun hid behind the trees around them. The woods around them were unfamiliar, stretching as far as Arthur could see in all directions. "We seem to have gotten pretty far along. No more fields here."

"Yeah, you boys were sleepin' for a while. We're about three hours out now. There's a stream ahead. I gotta stop to tend to the horses, so if you and the other one want to walk around a bit, that'll be the time to do it." Donald seemed a bit quieter now, probably tired after a few hours on the road.

Arthur turned to wake Merlin, when he noticed something. Something awful. His eyes widened and he drew in a slow breath.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted. Merlin's eyes shot open and he pushed away, startled and looking for a threat.

"What! What's going on!?"

Arthur pointed to his shoulder. Donald had turned around to see what the commotion was, he rolled his eyes and turned back around.

"Do you see what this is, Merlin?" Arthur glared. Merlin looked confused.

"Your...shoulder...?"

"You DROOLED all over me!" Arthur gestured to the damp cloud of glittering slobber all over his sleeve. Merlin felt a smile creep onto his face. Arthur rolled his eyes and smiled, and they both broke into laughter.

"I'm so sorry, your royal pratliness." He waved his arm in a make-shift bow motion as he sat across from Arthur. "Did it soak through your bandage?" He asked more seriously now.

Arthur pulled his collar over to check. The previously white cloths, now shimmered a slight gold, and the faint red tint of blood seeping through the layers.

"A bit." He pointed over to the small pack he picked up in town. "Can you grab the clean bandages?"

Merlin picked up the pack and pulled them out. Arthur struggled to pull the soiled ones off, so Merlin brushed his hands away, lifting his shirt off with ease, and began unraveling them. He reached the end and gasped. Arthur looked and froze.

"Wha-" Arthur couldn't finish his words. The skin was healed. No sign that any injury had ever been there, apart from the blood crusted around where the wound used to be. "Did you do this?"

Merlin looked sick. Horrified. He pressed shaking fingers to his forehead.

Arthur reached out, confused. "Merlin, it's okay if you did. Maybe Morgana's spell is wearing off."

"It's not."

"-but... maybe."

"It's not! I know...I would feel it." Merlin sighed. He had moved from where he was kneeling in front of Arthur working on his shoulder, back to sitting beside him leaning on the bags of grain. He pulled up his sleeves, revealing the scabby swirling symbols encircling his arms. "Remember how I told you that Morgana's spell just keeps me from using my magic and it'll slowly build up inside until it poisons me?" Arthur nodded slowly. "Well, it's building up, and it's pushing itself out wherever it can. That's why I vomited gold, and slobbered sparkles, and my blood was all shimmery. I mean I think that's why."

"It's your magic."

"Yeah. But I can't use it. It must've healed you, somehow, but it's still of no use, and it's not a good sign that it's coming out. That just means it's still building up inside of me."

"But then can't it heal you then? Your leg?"

"I mean it's in my blood, so if it was going to fix me up, it would've done already." Merlin shrugged. He pulled his uninjured leg to his chest and rested his chin on his knee.

"Well, thanks for drooling on me anyways." Arthur smiled, hoping for Merlin to gift him one in return.

"Anytime." A small upturn of the mouth later and Arthur ruffled a hand gently through his black hair.

* * *

Donald led the two horses to a small stream in the clearing, while Arthur hopped off the back of the cart. He groaned and stretched his legs out and reaching his arms to the sky.

"Uugh. I feel like I haven't walked in days. My legs are like stone." He looked up at Merlin who stood at the edge of the cart.

"Oh, poor Arthur. Your life is so hard."

"You're just grumpy I ate your last piece of cheese." He held out his arms and helped Merlin off the cart.

"Yes." Merlin replied resentfully. "Look at me. I'm wasting away. When I starve, it'll be your fault." Arthur laughed.

The two wandered apart and relieved themselves before returning to stand beside the cart. The clearing was reminiscent of the area they camped only a few nights ago, before everything had happened. Arthur's mind wandered, thinking through the 'what-ifs', following paths that he knew were dangerous and that they warned young knights about when training them. _You can't change what has happened_ , they'd say. _You keep trying to do that and you'll get so lost in your mind, we won't be able to pull you out again._

"Merlin?" Arthur kicked at some leaves in front of the other man, who sat legs crossed in the dirt.

"What?"

"I'm sorry I brought us on this awful hunting trip. If I had just-"

"Arthur, stop." Merlin laid a hand on his ankle. Their eyes met, pain and regret evident in both.

"I just-"

"No. This wasn't your fault. Unless you planned for those men to ambush us in the woods and for Morgana to," he waved his hands around, "do all that to us, then you deserve no blame for anything that happened. Okay? I was glad to get away from the castle, too."

They both remembered the executions that had happened nearly everyday before they left. Arthur felt his heart drop.

"Oh. Right."Arthur's poetic way with words triumphed once again.

The relief of being nearly home was replaced with a sense of dread. The ever-present noose around Merlin's neck tightened. Living in Camelot had presented him with so many opportunities that Ealdor couldn't, and had led him to Arthur and his destiny, but it had also never ceased to threaten to cut him down swiftly and without mercy if he was ever discovered and reminded him of that reality whenever possible. The past couple weeks of supposed sorcerer after supposed sorcerer being publicly executed had been overkill. No pun intended.

"Arthur." Be it the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice, or his knowing Merlin for years now, Arthur knew where he was going with this one word.

"No one will find out from me. I'm not going to let him execute you too." His words were firm, determined, and stubborn as always. Merlin hoped that he would believe them eventually.

* * *

The physicians quarters were quiet. Gaius sat peering though old books, reviewing techniques and obscure diseases, when a knock came at the door.

"Come in." He glanced up as the door opened. "Guinevere, what can I do for you, my dear?"

Her expression was one of worry, and sadness. She sat across from Gaius at the table.

"Gaius...you, uh, haven't heard the news from the patrols?"

He shook his head. "What is this about?"

"Merlin, and Arthur, they've found their horses, Gaius, but not them."

"They're both missing?"

"Yes. The recent reports from the patrols is that they heard there were some bandits in the area earlier, stealing from some local farmhouses." Gwen teared up. Gaius took her hand, patting it gently.

"I'm sure they'll be found, Guinevere. Arthur is quite capable of handling himself, and we all know Merlin is sneaky about getting out of tricky situations." Guinevere offered him a watery smile and nodded.

"I suppose you're right." She stood from the table. "I have to get back to work. I just wanted to make sure you had heard the news. Thank you, Gaius."

He nodded and watched as she left. His books lay open on the table, now ignored as Gaius shut his eye and breathed, forcing the even rise of his chest. His heart ached for the boy he had come to love as a son.

_Merlin, what have you gotten into now?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks for reading.
> 
> Leave comments and kudos if you're enjoying it, or if you have any suggestions or have noticed any errors that need fixing. I have no beta, and I'm terrible at revisions, so it's appreciated. :)


	9. Chapter 9

It was easy. Sitting in the cart, warmed by the sun, bellies filled with the kindness of strangers. The anticipation of their return weighed in their minds both as a relief and a concern, but as they grew closer to Camelot, it was more hope than dread they felt. Their lips curved up into smiles, joining Donald in carefree laughter at boring stories they didn't quite understand.

Then the cart stopped.

"Donald? Is everything alright?" Arthur pushed up to his knees to peer over the front of the cart and past the horses. A tree lay across the entire path, blocking their way home. It wasn't too large of a tree, the branches thin and the trunk no bigger than the width of his thigh.

Donald stepped slowly off the front of the cart. He gave his horses a pat and walked over, passing his gaze along the length of the tree. Arthur came up beside him.

"Wanna help me move it off the path, then?" The farmer walked to the top of the tree and bent down over it, stretching his cracked hands around the trunk. Arthur walked down to the other end, where the tree would have been uprooted from, but paused, his heart racing. The tree had been cut down, the trunk still barely attached to the stump.

"We have to go now." Arthur raced back to the cart, and snatched up the sword. Merlin caught his eyes, concerned and confused.

"Arthur. What is it?" Donald walked quickly back to the cart as well, a similar panic in his eyes, and pulled an axe from beneath his seat. He ran back to the tree and began chopping in the center, so they could move it out of the way.

Arthur whipped his head around, and put a finger to his lips. "It's a trap, Merlin." He whispered. "Someone cut down that tree to keep us from getting through, and I'm sure they're not too far away, waiting for the right time to make their move." He scanned the surroundings, searching for hiding places, for movement, anything.

Donald finished chopping through the tree and began pulling it off to the side. Arthur went over to help him. Merlin stood up shakily in the cart. He looked around for something to defend himself with.

"Donald?" Merlin called to the other man.

"Yes, Merlin?" They had nearly moved the trees out of the way now.

"Do you have any other... weapon-y things? Y'know you've got the axe, and Arthur has a sword, I'm feeling a little..." Merlin waved his hands ambiguously in the air. Arthur rolled his eyes, dropping the tree on the side of the path. He marched over to the cart pointing his finger at Merlin.

"No, no, no, Merlin. You are not fighting. Okay? You are going to hide yourself under the stuff in the cart and you are not going to move." He ordered. "Now lie down and we can throw some of these bags on top of you."

Merlin squinted his eyes.

"Arthur, I am not going to do that." Merlin stepped to the back of the cart, so he could hop down to the ground. However, Arthur was faster and blocked him. "Arthur. Move, I need to help."

The forest was quiet. The path was clear, apart from a few branches, and Donald picked up his axe and walked back to the cart.

"We need to get out of here."

Merlin sat back down, moving aside to make room for Arthur. Then they heard it.

It was so still. Like the air was frozen. The sunlight, streaming patchy through the leaves, seemed to grow dull, noticing the tension, the fear.

It was all they could hear. Hoof beats and crunching leaves.

The three men looked at each other. Arthur pulled his sword, determined to get them to Camelot safely, and determined not to be taken by bandits again.

Through the trees, down the path ahead of them, they could see the horses.

"Get down, Merlin. Donald. You should hide too." Arthur moved to the front of the cart, holding out his sword. His heart pounded. He was terrified. He could feel the hot beads of sweat sliding down his back, the air suffocating. Merlin stood up again, and Arthur turned around.

"Arth-"

"Merlin, please." Their eyes met, desperation clouding the vibrant colors. Merlin conceded, his heart conflicted and heavy. Donald was sitting next to him now and he placed a hand on his shoulder. The action meant to comfort and affirm Merlin's choice, only motivated Merlin to pull Donald's axe from his hands, jump out of the cart, and limp quickly to Arthur side, who looked less than pleased to see him.

"Merlin..." He scolded. Merlin just grinned.

"You're not going to get rid of me that easy. I'm going to fight by your side... till the end." Arthur smiled, sighed, and then ruffled a hand through Merlin's hair.

The horses were nearly upon them. The path ahead of them was clear about a ten minute walk, and then curved sharp to the left, which gave them very little reaction time. They were exposed from all sides. The two men held their weapons up. Their breath matched in heavy, shaky puffs.

"Arthur."

"What?"

"If...if something happens to me... I just... I need you to know-"

"Merlin, if you die, I will kill you. Whatever it is you can tell me after." Arthur could see the movement of the horses, now coming down the curve. He could almost see the riders, glimpses of color.

"Arthur, I just-"

"Shut up, Merlin." His heart ached, fear collecting in a pool in his gut. He made a snap decision. Heart pounding, he turned his head to his friend, this man he had spent years with, a man with a look on his face that said 'I am terrified and I am going to keep talking'. With one hand clenched and sweaty around the hilt of his sword, and the other free, he reached up and grasped the collar of Merlin's shirt. "This...is not...the end." And with that, he stepped forward, taking a last look at Merlin's wide, hopeful eyes before shutting his own, and pressed his lips into the chapped lips of his manservant.

Merlin stiffened, drawing in a gasp through his nose. The handle of the axe slipped out of his hands and fell onto the ground. Arthur made a move to pull away, his spontaneous move obviously unwelcome, but Merlin suddenly came to life, eyes fluttering closed, wilting into Arthur, reaching hands around his body, pressing into damp clothes and sweaty hair. He could smell the earth that had settled onto their skin, the taste of dirt and salt covered their lips. The sound of the horses was drowned out by the pounding of their hearts like drums in their ears. Arthur released Merlin's collar and laid his hand gently across his chest. They pulled apart, slowly, hesitantly, but like the tide they ebbed back into each other again, their foreheads pressed together, breathing in and out the same air.

The sounds of their surroundings slowly pulled back into focus. Arthur's eyelids flashed open. His head turned to see the horses turn the curve, the riders now completely visible.

"Oh my god." Arthur breathed out, and glanced back to Merlin just in time to see him crumple to the ground.

* * *

"Oh, Merlin..."

Gaius sat at his workbench, books and papers strewn about, purpose unknown, the knowledge held within useless against the fear building in his chest. He pressed his hands to his face, rubbing at his temples. _That boy is going to be the death of me._

"Gaius." A knock at the door. Guinevere pulled it open and poked her head in. "I brought you something from the kitchen. Figured you probably haven't eaten much." She carried a tray of bread and a few pieces of fruit, and offered him a sympathetic smile. He smiled back, the sadness clear on his face.

"You would think with all the trouble that Merlin gets into, I would be used to it by now. I wouldn't worry so much." He picked at the food on the tray. Gwen sat at the bench across from him.

"We always worry about the people we care about." She sighed. "I brought a bit more news. The king has sent out a few patrols to search the area and towns. He's apparently ordered they bring in anyone with any knowledge of magic for questioning." Gwen lowered her voice to a whisper. "I heard he's started torturing the ones already captured for information."

Gaius brought a hand to his chest. These past few weeks had been incredibly stressful. Watching suspected sorcerer after another being beheaded or burnt alive in the town square, worrying for Merlin's safety and sanity, considering sending him back to Ealdor, knowing he wouldn't leave, and worrying more, took so much out of him. It was as though they were living through the Great Purge once again. He still had nightmares about the children, the blood flowing in the streets, and the wailing cries.

"Gaius?"

"Hm?" He shook himself out of his thoughts, glancing up at the young woman with tired eyes.

"Are you alright? Is there anything I can do for you?" Gaius shook his head.

"I'm just worried about Merlin, and about Arthur. With everything that Uther is doing with the magic-users, he's sure to stir up some violent backlash. If the boys get caught up in the middle of that...." He trailed off, unable to finish the thought. "You should be getting back to work, I suppose. Thank you for the food, Guinevere. It was very thoughtful of you."

"Of course, Gaius. I'm sure they'll be fine. The patrols will find them soon enough." Gwen smiled and walked to the door, gently shutting it as she left.

The sounds of life drifted in through the window, but the chambers were dead-quiet. It was something that Gaius hadn't noticed before Merlin came to live with him. He brought such energy to this place, made it feel alive. When he was away, the silence was different, not always unwelcome, he often longed for a few quiet days to himself to catch up on reading or preparing ointments and draughts of medicine. Now, it was a cold silence, filled with a dread he could not name. Something terrible had happened, he was sure of it.

He pulled a few pieces of bread off and chewed them slowly, thoughtfully. His stomach protested, stuffed full already with anxiety. He sighed again, and stood to get to work on refilling his supply of ointments.

* * *

"Merlin!" Arthur dropped to the ground, running his hands along Merlin's neck and face, relaxing slightly when he feels the warm breath coming out of his mouth.

Donald walked up next to them, having left the cart when he saw who was riding towards them.

The familiar bright red and shiny silver armor of the Camelot knights pushed away any fear they had. Arthur sank into the ground, pulling Merlin so that he was resting on his lap, and called out to the knight that led the group, only a short ways from them.

"Took you long enough, Leon!" The red-haired man jumped off his horse, smiling wide, grateful to find the prince and his manservant, their friends, alive and mostly in one piece.

"Sire, thank god you are alive. What on earth happened!?" Leon knelt at their side, checking on Merlin, and drawing in a breath seeing the state they both were in. He gave Arthur a wide-eyed glance at seeing the brands that wrapped around Merlin's arms.

"Long story, Leon. I can explain on the way, but we need to get him back to Gaius." Leon nodded.

The two men before him were covered in dirt, sweat, and blood, one was unconscious, both looked like they had lost a bit of weight. He gave Arthur a pointed look before picking up Merlin off of his lap.

"I've got him." Leon told him, his voice sincere. Arthur frowned at the loss of contact, confused at the ache that appeared when he saw Leon walked away, Merlin hanging limp in his arms. Donald patted him on the shoulder and helped him up. Arthur smiled and shook his hand.

"Thank you, Donald. You have no idea how grateful I am for you and your wife. I will have a few of our knights ride with you to ensure you get to Camelot safely." Arthur reached into his tunic for his satchel of coins, but Donald stopped him.

"It's alright, Prince Arthur. The kindness of strangers is not meant to be repaid. We would have done this for anyone." Arthur smiled and nodded. He walked over and grabbed their bag from the cart, leaving the satchel of coins in its place because he couldn't leave Donald with nothing for his trouble, and called over three of the knights to follow Donald back to Camelot.

Leon was waiting for him, Merlin tucked in front of him safe and secure at last, and an empty horse beside them. The knot in Arthur's chest unraveled slightly and he mounted the horse.

"Ready, sire?" Leon asked him.

"Let's go home." Arthur replied, not taking his eyes off his unconscious friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. That happened. Hope you are still liking it. ;) Especially some new additions in there if you catch my drift.
> 
> No clue on when an update is coming next because school, but you've got one right now...  
> I was actually so excited last update because I passed 20,000 words and that's like the longest fic I have ever written and there's still several chapters left of ideas, so we're about halfway through now.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated. Thanks for sticking with me!


	10. Chapter 10

"That's awful, sire. So, she cursed you and gave you two weeks to kill the king? And Merlin, the same?" Leon and Arthur led the group of knights back to Camelot, drawing ever closer to their destination. The horses trotted carefully and quickly along the path, sensing the urgency to return home. Arthur had filled in Leon on what had happened when they were taken, being careful to leave some crucial, Merlin's magic-related details out. He rode quietly for a moment before answering.

"Well, from what Merlin said that Morgana told him, the curse she gave to me will only kill me once the two weeks are up. Right now, I'm fine, albeit exhausted and sore, but alright. What she did to Merlin..." He paused, sucking in a shaky breath. "It's... it's poisoning him. I'm not sure if it's because it's so recent and we've been on the run, or if he'll just keep getting worse from here, but he's been really ill the past few days. Not that I blame him. Morgana did some pretty terrible things to him."

He shuddered. The image of the skin on Merlin's back, bruised, oozing, and sticking to his tunic after they had escaped, flashed through his mind. Arthur spared a glance at Merlin, who was drooped on the front of Leon's horse, held safe in the other knights arms. His heart squeezed painfully, knowing that he was safer with Leon, at least for now. He couldn't protect him, not then and not now, not while he was so exhausted.

Leon nodded. He held Merlin carefully, glancing at the back of his head, the damaged skin peeking out of his tunic. He turned back to Arthur, who was staring straight ahead.

"The thing is... I don't really understand..." He considered his words for a moment. He spoke hesitantly. "Morgana had the both of you... She'd have more reason to take it out on you, I would think. Why would she spend so much time on Merlin? I mean he's great, don't get me wrong, but I wouldn't say he's importa- er... I mean, ...the most capable person... to kill the king. I can't think of a reason she'd hold a grudge against a servant, let alone Merlin. It just seems strange that she wouldn't focus more on you..."

Arthur flinched at Leon's words. He knew that his suspicions were valid, and Merlin's status would make him "less important" in the eyes of the court, but Arthur had lost sight of that in the past years. Merlin had made him blind to titles, and even if he teased about it, Merlin _was_ his friend. His thoughts longed that the reality that Leon had suggested had been true. That she had ignored Merlin, gone after him, that Merlin hadn't hidden a secret that made him a target, that he hadn't lied to him, that he hadn't broken his trust. He wondered how they could go back now, even after all the promises he had made, what if he couldn't keep them, what if he couldn't forgive Merlin for what he did. Arthur knew he was making a mistake, letting the doubt trickle in, but thought after thought came through, and he could not stop it. Two sides of his heart fought for victory, his desire to protect Merlin, and his desire to protect himself, and all he ended up with was nausea and a headache.

The red-haired knight rode on in silence, allowing the conversation to be left behind. He worried for his friends and the scars they would bear from this ordeal, but also for the decisions they would need to make in the coming days. They hurried their horses along, hoping to return to the castle before the red glow of the evening left the sky.

* * *

At last, the castle came into view. The light of day seeped into the horizon and the glow of torches led them home. Arthur felt a wave of emotion pass over him, the urge to run away bubbling within his chest, but he didn't understand why.

Leon's horse whimpered.

"Was that your horse?" Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. Leon shook his head and his eyes widened.

"Merlin." Leon held tighter to the man beginning to stir in his arms. Merlin whimpered again. Arthur's heart raced.

"Merlin! Stop, stop, I need to... we have to..." Arthur moved to leap off his horse, who was still galloping down the path. He felt a need to be at Merlin's side, overwhelming and strange. Leon shook his head again.

"Arthur, we will be at the castle in a few minutes. The best thing for him, and for you, is to go and see Gaius. You can't do anything for him now."

They were so close now. Guards on the towers and at the gates, like shadows in the darkness, scurried about, frantic and excited. The quiet of the evening broken by the sound of the bell, alerting the court that they had returned, that the prince had returned.

Arthur's eyes focused on the gates, everything else faded into a blur, his heart pounding like a drum in his ears. So fast, everything was going so fast.

Then it stopped.

"No." Tears clouded his vision. "No! You can't be here!" Arthur leaped from his horse, frozen mid-gallop, his gaze never leaving the figure that stood tall and quiet in front of him.

"Arthur. Come on now. We've played this game before, let's just skip this part. You know I'm not really here." Morgana stalked forward, a predatory look in her green eyes. She ran her talon-like fingers along Arthur's cheek and then tapped him on the temple. "I'm-just-in-here."

"No...no. No! Morgana, I'm not crazy! I know this is you doing something! Some sorcery trick! What is it you want from this!?" Arthur shouted, his exhaustion and frustration matched with the fact no one else could hear them, making him lose any control over his emotions.

"Idiot." Her voice was sharp, the sweet sarcastic droll cast aside. "You already know what I want. Merlin is going to kill our father for me. If he does, then you both get to live. Simple."

"Not simple. Merlin isn't going to kill my father, and even if he did, there is no way to know if you would even hold up your end. You could just leave us to die."

The sorceress shrugged. She smirked.

"Merlin will kill Uther. That I am absolutely sure of. As for my end, I guess you won't know. You'll just have to trust me." She laughed and disappeared.

Then, the world was fast again. His horse brushed his arm as it galloped past, and he could hear Leon shouting in confusion and turning around.

"Sire! Wha- How did you get over there?" Leon waited for an explanation, one that Arthur was formulating in his head, until he was interrupted by Merlin screaming.

"NO!" The previously unconscious man burst into action, scrambled from Leon's arms, fell face first off the horse, and was caught at the last second upside-down by Arthur. Still panicked though, he fought out of Arthur's arms, and landed on the ground, muttering and panting, his eyes wild.

"Merlin. Hey. Hey, hey." Arthur spoke softly, and knelt next to him with his hands raised in front of him. Merlin shivered. He ran his hands through his hair and scrubbed hard at his eyes. Arthur gently pulled his hands from his face, and held them in his own. Merlin looked up at him, seeing the gray of concern that colored the skin beneath Arthur's eyes.

"She...she's in my head." He whispered. "I...I don't want to kill anyone, Arthur. I don't want to kill your father, Arthur. You have to know that." He searched Arthur's face, desperate for recognition. Arthur nodded.

"I know, Merlin. I know that."

Merlin shook his head, fighting back tears. "I.. I.." His voice broke and he sobbed, falling into Arthur's arms, his hands clenching Arthur's tunic. His body wracked with silent weeping, and Arthur just sat, holding him, brushing his fingers through his hair, fingers running gently over his back. The group of knights gave them space, watching over them from a distance.

* * *

"They're back."

Gaius was out the door in a second.

* * *

"Your highness, he is safe."

The king breathed a sigh of relief.

"Where is he?"

* * *

Arthur looked up, meeting a familiar face. Gaius placed a hand on his shoulder, an attempt at comfort for the both of them.

The violent sobs had ceased, but Merlin kept his face buried in the warm darkness of Arthur's chest. Arthur stroked Merlin's head.

"Merlin." He whispered. Merlin sniffled. "Merlin, Gaius is here."

Merlin sniffled again, and pulled up his head slowly, his face puffy and covered in snot and tears. Tears ran from his eyes at the sight of his mentor. Gaius fell to his knees, pulling the boy to his chest. Arthur scooched out from his awkward position beneath the embrace, and stood quietly.

"Merlin, I'm so glad you are back. I was so worried. Are you alright?" Gaius held Merlin out, so he could look at him better. Merlin shook his head and let out a shaky breath.

"We should talk about this in the castle, Gaius." He croaked out. Arthur helped them both up off the ground.

Gaius watched in concern, as Merlin limped back to the horse, walking carefully and tightly like he was afraid of breaking. Arthur stood beside Gaius, terrified to return home after what they had been through, unsure of how to proceed.

"Gaius..." Arthur said hesitantly. Gaius turned to the prince with a watery smile and embraced him.

"You have no idea how grateful I am that you have both returned. I feared I would never see Merlin, or you again." Gaius released Arthur, the wrinkled skin of his face turned up into a fond smile, and his eyes shining with unshed tears.

The group trailed into gates of Camelot, the feeling of safety and familiarity comforting them for the moment, but knowing that this peace would not last for long weighing heavy on their minds.

* * *

"My lady. They have returned to Camelot," announced a man clad in dark cloth and carrying various weapons. He stood behind a tall woman lurking in the shadows.

"And the visions, they have been sent?"

"Yes, the druid sent them exactly as you ordered. They were quite distressed." The woman smiled.

"Perfect, then everything is going exactly to plan. Soon, I shall have my throne, and Emrys won't be around to stop me." She laughed, and whipped her long, black dress around. She brushed past the man and stalked through the door.

The man rolled his eyes.

"Always so dramatic..." he muttered under his breath, before following her down the corridor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos, comments are always appreciated.   
> Next chapter will be up next month because I'm super busy. :)


	11. Chapter 11

Arthur reveled in the gentle, safe glow of the city. The cobblestones, uneven, but familiar beneath his tired feet, guided him back home. His throat swelled and he felt his breath catch, threatening him with an imminent emotional breakdown. It was overwhelming. He had only been gone five days, but the world seemed to have been turned upside down, and coming back, he longed for his ignorance to greet him home as well, to send him back to before when he could pretend that Merlin was just his idiot servant, nothing more.

He had politely refused to ride the horse back to the castle, preferring the physical motion of his feet on the ground, and the feeling that he was, in fact, back. The other knights gave him sad smiles in return, understanding the need for that reassurance, knowing the pain that comes from being in dangerous situations far from home. Arthur glanced slightly ahead. Merlin was slumped once again on Leon’s horse, only slightly conscious; doing his best to respond to Gaius’ worried interrogating. He realized, with little surprise, that Gaius probably knew about Merlin’s magic, and somehow it didn’t bother Arthur. He didn’t feel like reacting, he just felt tired, numb. Who else was lying to him, he didn’t care anymore. He just wanted to shut it all out because it was too much all of a sudden. When it was just the two of them, he thought it would be alright and they’d be able to figure out a plan, but now… there’s no forward for them. Arthur has expectations; he has a part to play in the kingdom and Merlin has magic and he lied to him, but Arthur also knows that he cares for him, more than he cares to explain to himself or otherwise. He’s just so tired.

Leon watched the prince sluggishly march on. Each step he took seemed to draw color from his face. Leon knew that look, had seen it before on many knights coming home from battle. They just needed to get back. They survived the fight; now all they could think about is being home again, being normal, going back to how it was before and forgetting. But they couldn’t. Whatever Arthur had seen, whatever had happened to him and Merlin, he wouldn’t be able to go back and forget. Even though he showed no physical injury, apart from a few bruises, he was wounded deeply. Healthy men just don’t have dead eyes like that.

 

* * *

 

 

 Leon carried Merlin to the physician’s quarters, led by the harried physician, and trailed by the vacant prince. They rushed through the doors and laid Merlin down on the cot in the front room. Gwen had been waiting at the table, and she stood, alert and ready to help, when they came in. Arthur hesitated in the doorway, unsure if he should stay.

“Guinevere, we need some clean water, and some fresh linen. Leon, has the king been informed of their return? He needs to be told that the prince is down here.”

Gwen nodded and rushed out to fetch the items, pausing at the door to give Arthur a sympathetic look and a gentle embrace. Arthur stood stiff, staring nowhere in particular.

“I am sure the king has been informed, but I will make sure he knows that Prince Arthur is with you here.” The knight patted Gaius on the shoulder, hoping to convey his support and hope, and rushed out as well.

Merlin stirred only faintly, his condition seemed to have worsened on their short ride in the city. Gaius breathed out a shaky breath and turned to Arthur, still at the door. He walked slowly over to him and held out a hand, attempting to catch his blank gaze.

“Arthur.”

Arthur blinked. He saw the miserable expression on Gaius’ face and his eyes filled with tears. He collapsed in a sob into Gaius, his resolve finally breaking. Gaius wrapped his arms tight around the boy, cursing whoever did this to them, wanting to keep them both inside and safe forever. Gaius gave Arthur a comforting pat on the back and led him to the table, letting him sit and take in some calming breaths.

“Arthur, are you injured?” Gaius asked gently. Arthur’s brows furrowed. He was unsure of how to answer, as he had been injured, but the wound was gone now. He pulled his shirt collar aside, revealing the skin that used to hold a gaping arrow hole.

“An arrow.” He sniffled. Arthur studied the unblemished skin a moment, silently, and then looked up at the physician. “Merlin fixed it.”

Gaius’ eyes widened. Arthur could see the quickened rise and fall of his chest.

“Did you see what she did to him, Gaius?” He looked over at Merlin, unfamiliar emotion once again squeezing his chest. “She took it away. His magic. Beat him, branded him, tortured him for hours, left him powerless.”

The physician squeezed his eyes shut. The words Arthur said tore into his heart more viciously than a knife could. Gaius returned to Merlin and began removing his shirt that had become stuck to his wounds again. He grimaced.

“You found out then?” Gaius asked quietly, fearing for the safety of his ward. He had warned Merlin about telling Arthur, unsure if the teachings of his father would outweigh the friendship they had grown together.

“Yes.” Arthur’s reply cut through the air. He said nothing else.

Gwen returned to the room, carrying a bucket of water and clean linen. The tension in the room was palpable, so she walked without a word to Gaius’ side and began preparing bandages out of the linen. Gaius worked swiftly removing the shirt, loosening the scabs with water and oils, and pulled it carefully off over his head.

“Oh, Merlin.” Gaius choked out. Merlin’s torso was reminiscent of a gruesome rainbow, shades of healing bruises littered between the darkening, scabbed brands. Gwen’s hand flew over her open mouth. She turned to Arthur, her eyes wide and questioning. He sat at the table, head in his hands, shaking with each breath he drew in.

“What happened to him!?” Gwen reached her hand out to Merlin, before quickly drawing it back.

“Morgana.” Arthur grumbled. He didn’t want to sit here. He didn’t want to listen to them examining Merlin, seeing the wounds that he couldn’t protect him from. Arthur let his head drop to the table, focusing on the pounding of his heartbeat, the sensation of the blood throbbing in his veins. Just let the rest of the world fade away.

Gaius trembled and took a deep breath in through his nose. He pulled himself to his feet, hoping his legs wouldn’t give out on him, and walked over to his shelves. He pulled a handful of colorful bottles filled with oils and vinegar. A small box of herbs caught his eye and he added a few leaves to his collection before walking back past Merlin and Guinevere to his workbench. He searched around a moment through the clutter and picked up a small tub and held it up to Gwen.

“C-can you take this soap and clean Merlin up, please? His- his wounds need to be clean before I can apply the ointments.” Gaius’ hands shook and he fought off the feeling of hopelessness, his mind racing with what Arthur had told him. If Merlin had truly lost his magic, he truly had no idea where to go from there. He simply focused his mind back to healing what he could.

Gwen took the tub of soap and returned to Merlin, frowning, and holding back her emotions. She swallowed the lump in her throat and reminded herself that she needed to be strong right now, that Gaius and Merlin and Arthur needed her to be strong. She pulled the bucket of water closer to where she sat by the cot and began cleaning the dirt and crusted blood from Merlin’s arm. She paused, noticing the marks that encircled his wrist. His other arm had the marks as well. The marks were obviously from some sort of cuffs or bindings, and she felt a tightness in her throat at anyone doing such horrid things to Merlin, especially Morgana, who she thought had been their friend. She shook her head, trying to forget the feelings of betrayal that had lain just below the surface ever since Morgana had left Camelot. She returned to cleaning Merlin, wishing that the soap and water would wash away the marks on his skin as well, and trying to keep the tears from streaming down her face.

The sound of grinding herbs and dripping water filled the room. Arthur felt his body grow heavy. He knew he was moments away from falling asleep. With enormous effort, he lifted his head off the table, blinked, and sighed. Gwen looked over from across the room, and pursed her lips, disapproving. Suddenly, she was at the table, pulling his limp form off the bench.

“Come on. Time for some well-deserved sleep.” She sighed. “Gaius?”

“Mmm?”

“Can Arthur use Merlin’s bed for tonight? I don’t think he'll be able to make it back up to his own.”

“Of course. I’ll be able to keep an eye on him better from here anyways," Gaius glanced over at Merlin, and continued preparing the ointments for his wounds.

Gwen pulled the prince into Merlin’s room. It was dark, but she could make out the faint outlines of Merlin’s unmade bed, a pair of trousers laid in the middle of the floor, random papers strewn under the edge of his bed. She half-smiled. Of course, Merlin’s room would be a mess. She let Arthur sit on the edge of the bed. He looked up at her, exhaustion seeming to pull him down into the earth.

“You should try and get some rest, Arthur.” Gwen pushed him gently over, so he was lying down. “It’s going to be okay.” She pulled Merlin’s worn blankets over him and brushed a hand through his grimy hair. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“Thank you, Gwen.” She smiled and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Arthur couldn’t stop the errant tears from dripping out of his eyes. He didn’t trust himself to open his mouth without another traitorous sob escaping, so he breathed sharp breaths through his nose. However, that only served to draw in the overwhelming scent of Merlin that covered the entirety of the room. His mind buzzed painfully, his thoughts pounding, screaming for attention. He felt wide-awake and full of adrenaline.

Arthur sighed. He turned onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. Not in a million years, and especially not while he was tucked into Merlin’s blankets.

But his exhaustion won over the battle in his mind, and he slept.

 

* * *

 

 

Gwen finished cleaning Merlin when she got back in the room. Gaius was still hard at work, scuttling anxiously from shelf to table to workbench, grabbing things seemingly at random, but with a precision that could only be intentional. She carefully removed Merlin’s boots and damp stockings revealing the pruned white skin of his feet. As she cleaned and dried them off, she watched his chest moving with his slow, even breathing. He had been barely awake when they brought him in, but now he seemed to sleep, peaceful and barely breathing. Gwen finished drying Merlin’s feet and went to remove his trousers, shaking away the awkwardness of the situation when she noticed the faint white of a bandage in a hole on his trouser leg.

“Gaius?”

“Is everything alright, Gwen?” He replied, not looking up from his task.

“Merlin’s got a bandage on his leg. Did Arthur say anything about something happening there?” Gwen pulled apart the hole in his pants, peering inside to see more of the bandage. “It’s a little dirty, but it looks like it’s fairly fresh.” Gwen turned and waited for Gaius to answer. He set down the bowl he was mixing herbs and oils into and walked over to Merlin’s side.

“I don’t remember them saying anything, but Arthur’s had a long couple days. He could have forgotten.” He motioned with his hand, silently asking to take a look. Gwen moved from her chair beside the cot and Gaius took her place.

“Guinevere, could you hand me the knife on my workbench?” She nodded and wandered over. The knife sat between a jar of bright yellow liquid and a smooth blue stone. She held it up.

“This one?” He nodded and she carried it over to him. He carefully cut off the bottom of Merlin’s trousers. Gwen brought over a few more candles. Gaius could see now, the faint trace of blood seeping through the layers of cloth, a coating of dirt powdering the outer layer, and faint gold specks glittering on the threads. The physician furrowed his eyebrows and then shook his head, blaming the specks on the candles and a lack of sleep. He laid his knife down beside the pile of bandages on the floor and carefully began unraveling the bandage from around Merlin’s leg, and unveiled an arrow wound in the middle of his thigh. The wound seemed to be healing alright, but a golden fluid oozed from the center, and showed some signs of mild infection. Gwen handed Gaius a clean wet cloth and he worked on cleaning the wound.

Merlin shuddered and let out a faint groan. The two jumped at the sound. Gaius paused in his cleaning and Gwen rushed to his head, placing a warm hand on his forehead.

“Merlin?” Gwen spoke softly, watching with hawk-like attention for any sign of waking. “Merlin, can you hear me? Are you awake?” Merlin moaned softly just as a there was a loud knock at the door.

“Gaius!” It was the king. The door swung violently open, slamming into the shelves on the wall beside it. Uther strode in, determination and anxiety pooling around him. Two guards trailed in after him, wearing matching grim expressions. Merlin groaned louder.

“My son, Gaius! Where is he? Is he alright? Why aren’t you treating him!?” The king demanded. Gaius approached him slowly, raising his hands.

“He is fine, sire. He is sleeping in the other room. Prince Arthur wasn’t wounded, apart from a few bruises, and he just needs some rest right now.” Gaius spoke in a soft, low voice, hoping to calm the king from his anxiety-driven rampage. The king drew in a sharp breath, and the air stuttered out of his nose, as he took a seat in the same spot at the table Arthur had been sitting in shortly before. He shook his head, his face sullen and dark.

The silence in the room was short-lived; however, as Merlin’s groaning evolved into a deep and angry scream. Uther and Gaius looked over as Merlin pulled himself up off the cot, his mouth wide and emitting a sinister noise. His eyes opened revealing a cloudy white film covering his blue irises, and the veins in his face slowly streamed with black fluid starting just below his tear ducts. Gwen backed away from him, terrified. Merlin snatched Gaius’ knife from the floor, his body jerking unnaturally, like he was fighting every movement he made.

“Merlin! Stop! Put that knife down!” Gaius shouted. The two guards unsheathed their swords, stepping in front of the king.

“He has to die!” Merlin jerked forward, and Gwen jumped in front of him, trying to block him from going any further. “You’re not going to stop me!” He shoved Guinevere to the ground hard. Gaius ran to her side to check that she was alright. The guards stepped forward, ready to perform their duty to the king. Merlin stalked closer, his chest heaving with each strained breath.

“Merlin!” Arthur stood behind them in Merlin’s doorway, awakened by the chaos. Merlin paused, but only for a moment.

“I have to kill him.” The words came out bitter and angry, but he choked out a breath and said, “I can’t stop.” A tear dripped out of his eye, streaking over the pattern of black roots that replaced the veins in his cheeks. Merlin’s fist squeezed the knife hard, his knuckles white, and he stepped closer to the king. The guards lifted their swords, moving to strike. Merlin expected the next feeling to be a sword in his chest, but instead warm arms wrapped tight around his body, and pulled him onto the ground.

“Father, you need to leave! Whatever Morgana did to him, it’s likely brought out by your presence.” Arthur pleaded from the ground. Merlin began fighting to be freed. He stabbed at every surface that his hand would reach from its imprisonment in Arthur’s grip. Gaius rushed over and carefully snatched the knife from his hand. The king lowered his eyebrows, ready to argue, unwilling to let his son stay in another dangerous situation. “Please, father. Trust me. I’ll be fine.” Uther hesitated before nodding.

“Stay here. Make sure my son is safe.” The king told his guards, then spared his son one last look, and left the room. Merlin continued struggling, growling in frustration at Arthur. The prince held tight. Slowly, Merlin’s jerking motion grew weaker, and his breath slowed. Arthur shut his eyes in relief, and Merlin did the same. Gaius knelt down at their side, watching as the streaks of black faded from Merlin’s face.

“Merlin?” Gaius said tenderly. The young man’s face morphed into one of sadness and frustration. He opened his eyes, revealing the blue-gold color it was before, and looked up at Gaius. They shared a moment of sorrow, their predicament overwhelming and unexpected.

“G-Gaius. I... I…” Merlin shook his head and shut his eyes again. The sobs that shook his body earlier returned. Arthur held him tighter, trying to be cautious of his injuries, but also wanting him to be okay, wanting to comfort him and make everything okay. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t… I…There wasn’t…”

“I know, Merlin. It’s alright. We’re going to figure this out.” Gaius reassured him. Gwen came and knelt by their side, as well. She nodded in agreement. Merlin gasped.

“Oh, Gwen, I’m so sorry, are you alright? I didn’t mean to-“ Gwen held her hands up.

“I’m fine, Merlin. I know it wasn’t really you.” Merlin sighed.

The moment of silence went from comforting to slightly awkward when they realized that the king’s guards were still there, holding their swords, ready to dispatch Merlin. Arthur spoke from his place on the floor, wrapped around the man they were there to protect him from.

“You two can inform the king that the situation has been resolved. Please tell him that I will be staying here for the knight, so that Gaius can keep an eye on me, and I will come and speak to him in the morning.” The guards looked unsure. “That’s an order.” Arthur added sternly. They nodded, replacing their swords in their sheaths as they left.

They sat there a few minutes, Gaius and Gwen moved and rested at the table, and Arthur continued holding Merlin as they recomposed themselves on the floor. None of them wanted to move. That would mean they had to start dealing with everything, with the curses Morgana put on them, Merlin’s magic, the trauma that the whole situation left them with, the fear of losing people they cared about. In the end, it was Gaius, and his responsibility as a physician who got up first.

“Merlin.” Gaius laid a hand on Merlin’s arm, careful not to bump his wrist or any of the brands. Merlin opened his eyes. “We need to finish treating you.” Merlin nodded. Arthur reluctantly loosened his grip, and released Merlin to limp back to his cot. The sudden emptiness felt harsh and cold. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to hold Merlin all that time, but it had felt right, to have Merlin close, and to have him safe in his arms. Gwen watched Arthur sadly. Arthur had shown her kindness and friendship before, and perhaps she let herself hope too strongly that it would grow into something more. She understood now that it would never happen. Arthur’s heart belonged to someone else, even if he wasn’t sure of it yet.

She helped Arthur back to bed before returning to help Gaius finish treating Merlin. When they finished, Gaius thanked Gwen, and retrieved two extra cots from Merlin’s room.

“It’s too late to head home now. You can sleep here if you like.” Gwen smiled.

Within moments of laying their heads down, they were all deep in a heavy sleep. It was quiet and dark, and in the cocoon of their unconsciousness, they felt safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long for me to update. I am soooo busy. But I wrote a nice long chapter to make up for it. I hope you are enjoying reading.  
> Leave comments, kudos, messages, whatever. It's hard to find motivation to write sometimes, but knowing that you guys like what I'm doing is the best motivation.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me. Next update should be in about a month, maybe sooner, but probably not because I'm going to be extra extra busy this month preparing to graduate from college and getting ready for grad school.
> 
> Love you guys!


	12. Chapter 12

Merlin's heart pounded in his chest. He was striding through the dark halls of the castle, his feet taking him in a direction he dreaded, but could not control. Moonlight shimmered softly on the hard stone floors and Merlin prayed he would fall through them, that somehow his path would be stopped. He kept walking.

The night was too quiet. He passed by guards slumped on the walls, their chests inflating with restful breaths, and their faces shrouded in shadows. Merlin wanted to scream at them to wake. They needed to stop him. Someone needed to stop him. Each passing door filled him with fear as he knew that he grew closer to his destination. A shiver ran down his spine and he felt the dribbling chill of darkness creeping up behind him. If he was able to turn his head, he would have seen the shadows of the night swallowing up the moonlight leaving Merlin's footsteps enveloped and forgotten.

"Please." Merlin managed to sob out. His voice was barely audible, nothing but a croak slipping out of the sliver of his lips. He had reached the door. His stride slowed slightly as he pushed open the door. He begged his eyes to close, to sleep, anything. He knew if he was witness to what he was about to do he would never be able to forget it. In front of him, closer as he walked quietly forward, was a bed, and in it lay the sleeping king.

Merlin stepped closer forward. He felt the cool metal of a dagger in his hand.

Closer still. Uther seemed almost harmless. The crease in his brow smoothed out with his current unconsciousness. He pulled his hands close to his body, and Merlin noticed an object clutched in his grasp. Metal, unpolished for several years, but with a shine that only comes from the constant touch of skin, it was the Pendragon crest. Merlin was reminded of a similar pendant Arthur wore during banquets, one that he made sure Merlin polished perfectly every time.

Arthur. He would never forgive him. Even if he understood that he couldn't control himself... Never.

Merlin fought as he lifted the dagger over the king. His muscles quivered, his lungs struggling with the inconsistent puffs of his panicked breaths.

Release.

Merlin pulled back. Eyes wide and full of tears, he was able to move, but was frozen. The dagger nested itself in the king's no longer beating heart. A bright red pool of blood spread across the formerly white sheets on the bed. Uther was silent now and the darkness slithered in from the hallway stealing the light from the windows and candles in the room.

Suddenly, a flash of pain drove through Merlin's stomach. Merlin looked down to see the point of a sword poking out of his body, redness already spreading across his tunic. He gasped, pulling in a pained breath. Arthur slid in front of him, and instead of concern, his face was drawn into an angry mournful expression. Arthur pulled Merlin's tunic towards him, but this time instead of a breathy kiss, Arthur shook him violently.

"You killed him! This is your fault! I hate you, Merlin! How could I have ever trusted you! How could I have been so blind and stupid!" Arthur shoved Merlin to the floor and left the room without looking back. The scent of iron permeated the air. The darkness crept closer still, swallowing the king's death bed, then Merlin's feet, his chest, until he saw nothing at all.

It was quiet, but the pain remained.

 

* * *

 

Merlin screamed. His eyes shot open. Gaius' cot. His chambers. A dream, it was a dream. He groaned. The pain was still there, a burning throb on his abdomen. His hands clutched at his bandages, desperately hoping that the sensation would fade away.

It was still early enough that the sun hadn't peeked through the slits of the windows yet and Gaius and Gwen were still sleeping quietly in the darkened room. Merlin could barely see them across the room, bundled in whatever blankets Gaius scrounged up last night. Fresh bandages, various ointments and oils, and a cup of water sat beside Merlin's cot, and Merlin was suddenly reminded of his incredible thirst. He carefully picked up the water and drank a mouthful. His dry throat disagreed with a violent cough and the mouthful splattered all over the stone floor. He cringed and looked up hoping that he didn't wake the room's other inhabitants. Gaius turned over in his cot, but didn't seem to wake up and Gwen was so still, Merlin could have mistaken her for a corpse if it weren't for the gentle rise of her chest.

The pain in his abdomen dulled to a throbbing ache and Merlin slowly sat up in his cot. That dream had felt so real. The sharp pain of the sword in his chest, the warm flow of blood, the loss of control as he marched to the king's chambers. Perhaps Morgana sent the dream to him, as a threat, a sign of what is to come. Merlin remembered the night before, when he had tried to attack the king. There was no reason in that moment, it was like he was there, but separate from his body, watching himself march forward from inside his mind. He hated that. Morgana taking over him, leaving him without choice, without freedom. It's what his mother had feared for him. She had always tried to protect him from being taken advantage of, knowing that he held a great power, and understanding that people in their world would want to control it. She had always told him that although King Lot was less concerned about eradicating magic users from the face of the Earth as Uther was, hiding his power was important because the motives of strangers can be cruel and unforgiving and she worried for him every day. Merlin felt sick to his stomach, but pushed the sensation aside.

Now wide awake, he decided to look through his spell books for anything that could help their situation. Of course, the ones he needed were in his room. Under his bed. Where Arthur was sleeping still. He sat on the edge of the cot, holding his abdomen, and taking a sip of water, while he considered how he would explain himself crawling under his bed if Arthur woke up. He supposed now was a good a time as any for honesty, so he stood as quiet as a possibly could and crept over to his door. He padded barefoot up the chilly stone steps and pushed his door slowly open. The prince lay on Merlin's bed, his legs tangled in the sheets and his head tucked under the pillow. As Merlin stepped closer, Arthur rolled over to face the window, and flopped his arm over his face. Merlin paused, fearing he would wake, but then realized that this is his room and he doesn't have to explain himself. He shouldn't and he won't. He was determined now, and knelt to the ground next to his bed and started crawling under when he heard Arthur stirring again.

He felt a strong arm grasping the back of his tunic, and he let out a pained gasp. Merlin pulled back out from under the bed and struggled to escape. His heart pounded with the memory of his dream, of Arthur's grip on him, the anger as Merlin bled out. Arthur released him once he realized who he had grabbed and where he was. Merlin saw the tightness drain from his muscles and the dark purple circles that colored the skin beneath his eyes. Arthur rubbed a hand over his face and gave Merlin an exasperated look.

"Care to explain?" Arthur squinted and rubbed a hand through his hair, which was sticking in all directions already, further evidence of his restless night. Merlin calmed his racing pulse and drew in a heavy breath. He sat back further from the bed and pointed under to his hidden books.

"Sorry, I'm grabbing my spell book, I need to get started on some research. You can go back to sleep, Arthur." He whispered. His spell book was within sight and he went to reach for it again when Arthur patted his shoulder.

"Hey idiot, you need sleep too." Merlin could hear the exhaustion dragging out every word Arthur spoke like it was weighted with heavy stones, but Arthur's eyes pulled him in, vouching for the sincerity of his words. "The research can wait. Go back to bed, Merlin." His hand rested heavy on Merlin's shoulder.

"I'm fine. I'm not tired." Merlin lied. He looked away, feigning interest in some papers strewn on his floor. Arthur's hand squeezed gently, pulling his attention back.

"Merlin." Arthur hesitated, looked at the floor, and then back at Merlin. Merlin could tell he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure. He decided not to say anything further.

"What?"

Arthur sat up in the bed and scooted to the side. "That floor can't be comfortable. Sit." He patted the space next to him. Merlin could feel his heart start racing again. He couldn't be close to him right now, he needed to leave.

"Arthur, no. I can't do this right now." Arthur patted again, looking pointedly at Merlin. Merlin sighed.

"Come on. I barely slept at all last night, and by the look of you, you probably didn't either. Just come sit with me. I think we should talk... about you know...things." Arthur's expression was open and genuine. Merlin nodded, surprised at the contrast of the Arthur he left Camelot with several days prior and this Arthur, who wanted to talk about things, and was being so gentle with him. It was nice that he wasn't yelling at him like before, and that they were finally starting to have some reciprocity in their relationship, but it is unfortunate that it took this ordeal for that to happen. Merlin sat down. He was tense, trying not to lean too close to Arthur, but feeling the irresistible warmth of his body so close, the memory of their kiss the day before fresh in his memory, but stained by the events that occurred after and his dream. Merlin sat as close to the edge of the bed as possible without falling off, he hoped Arthur wouldn't notice.

An awkward silence settled between them. Arthur racked his brain, trying to find the right words, unsure of where to start. Merlin picked at the scabs on his wrists. The angry red circles peeked out of his sleeves and the movement caught Arthur's eyes. He laid a hand over Merlin's.

"We're going to get through this. Everything is fine. We just need to focus on getting you better, okay." Determination hid behind the shakiness of Arthur's voice.

"And you too." Merlin added.

"Nah, I'm fine." Arthur pulled up his sleeve, revealing the dark symbol of Morgana's curse. "Apart from this, nothing happened to me. You already fixed my shoulder up, so I have nothing to complain about." Merlin frowned.

"Arthur." Merlin placed a hand on top of Arthur's now. He looked pointedly at the prince. "You don't always have to be the strong one...not with me." He sighed. "Last night...last night, I would have killed him. Your father. If you hadn't stopped me, I would have done it. You are allowed to be afraid, to feel wounded by this, even if your body doesn't show it. Arthur, I have lied to you for years about my magic, your half-sister kidnapped you and wants your father dead, and you're going to die in less than two weeks. Can you just be honest with me, please?"

"Fine!" Arthur snapped at him. He pulled his hands away from Merlin's, and folded his arms across his chest. "Yes, I'm afraid! I'm terrified, Merlin. You know why I couldn't sleep last night?" He paused, his eyes glistening. "I kept seeing it, you murdering my father...and I... I was so angry. I couldn't stop." Merlin's breath hitched. Arthur rubbed his eyes. "I stabbed you through the chest...and I left you just to bleed out on the floor. You know what the worst part was, Merlin? I believed it. Until I woke up, I believed that you murdered my father and that I just killed you without remorse."

"Arthur...that is the exact same dream I had last night."

"What?"

"I had the same exact dream. I went to your father's chambers, and I killed him and then you pushed a sword through my chest and you shook me and shouted at me before leaving me there...then I just faded out. I think I must have bumped my stomach in my sleep because when I woke up it still felt like I had a sword in me." His voice broke with his last sentence. He breathed out a bitter laugh pushing away the helpless feeling the memory aroused. Arthur's tension faded.

"Morgana." Arthur realized aloud. "She really screwed with us, huh?" He smiled sadly at Merlin, who nodded and smiled back. "Do you think she's right?"

"About killing your father? About wanting us dead?" Merlin asked incredulously. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Arthur interrupted.

"No, not about that. I mean... sort of about that. Knowing that you have magic now, my father...he's, well, he's done some horrible things. I mean, I'm not innocent in this either. I could understand if you... you know...saw things her way. Wanting...justice..." Arthur chose his words carefully, hesitating out of fear of Merlin's answer and out of shame of his father's and his own actions.

Merlin was quiet. His first instinct told him to deny it, but Arthur did have a point. While Morgana's methods were heinous, her mission was founded in an understandable logic. How could Merlin sit by while people of magic were killed by Uther? How could he just watch these past few weeks as they were beheaded and set ablaze in the courtyard just outside his window? He wanted to say that Morgana was wrong, that killing Uther was horrible and that he didn't deserve to die, but he was still murdering so many innocent people. Was Merlin only defending Uther because he knew it would devastate Arthur if he died?

"Honestly..." Merlin paused. He wanted to tell Arthur all of this, but there was still that uncertainty in their relationship, the cracks in their trust from the impact of his magic's unveiling. Arthur turned to him, waiting patiently, encouraging him silently. "I don't know. I just..." Merlin suddenly didn't feel like talking, his stomach turning unpleasantly. "I should go." He started to move off the bed, a flash of pain shooting through his chest as he turned. Arthur placed a hand on his arm.

"Stay. You don't have to talk about it. Just..." Arthur sighed. "Please." They were still for the moment, allowing the tension to dissipate into the hazy dark of the early morning. Merlin sat turned away from Arthur on the edge of the bed.

"Are you really okay with it?" Merlin said after a long silence. He looked back at Arthur. "The magic thing." Pause. "Me."

"I want to be up front with you about this, Merlin. I am upset about it. I don't really know how to deal with that right now, but what I do know is that you are important to me. It hurt, finding out that you've been lying to me, and I'm still conflicted about all the magic stuff, but I know that I won't let anything happen to you. Not again. I can't."

Merlin laid back on the bed, satisfied, for now, with the answer, and too exhausted to deal with anything else.

"Okay." He sighed and let out a groan. "I'm tired."

"Just go back to sleep, idiot." Arthur laughed quietly. He sat his hand over Merlin's eyes. "Sleep...Sleep now. Cloooose your eyes..."Merlin pushed Arthur's hand away, and smiled up at him.

Even in the lethargy of the wee hours, their smiles mirrored each other. Merlin let himself sink into the dip of his bed, the two men's sides melting into each other. The warmth, of temperature and of familiarity, softened the muscles in their bodies. The two took comfort in the silence, squeezed onto the narrow bed, the dark of the early morning blanketing them. Soon their breaths matched up and they drifted back to sleep, and the memory of the horrible dream was far from their minds.

 

* * *

 

 

Gaius woke when the first streaks of sunlight darted through the cracks in the window. Surprised that he had slept in, he stretched upright and shook away the remaining fatigue in his muscles. His primary concern. Merlin. Second concern. The fact that when he looked for Merlin, he was not in the cot where they had left him the night before. Immediately, he thought the worst. Images of Merlin wandering the castle, assassinating the king, going after Morgana, falling off the tower flashed through his mind. He scrambled to his feet and scurried to wake Gwen.

"Gwen." He shook her frantically. "Gwen!" The young woman bolted up from her unconscious state, searching the room, her eyes darting wildly for a threat. She calmed slightly seeing who woke her.

"Oh! Gaius, you scared me." Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the light in the window, and her eyes widened again. "What? Oh no, I'm going to be late!" Gaius held his hands up, pausing her panic.

"Merlin's not here. He wasn't in his cot when I woke up. I need your help again." Gaius' voice was distraught, but apologetic. Gwen nodded.

"We should wake Arthur, he can help us look." She walked over to Merlin's room and knocked softly on the door before opening the door. "Ar- oh..." She shut the door quietly. "Gaius, he's not missing."

"Hmm?" Gaius looked confused. He was gathering supplies from around the room, preparing for the worst, and he looked back at Gwen. She smiled at him and motioned to Merlin's room.

"He's asleep...they're asleep." Gwen walked toward Gaius, who breathed a huge sigh of relief. She helped Gaius to the table to sit and laid a hand on his arm.

"He's going to be okay, Gaius. They're safe now." She expressed gently. "I need to get back to my duties, but I'll check in later, okay?" Gaius smiled at her, always impressed at the kindness and loyalty she held for the people she cared about.

"Go, Guinevere. You've been an incredible help. Thank you, truly." She stood and Gaius waved her to the door. "We're fine, go." She hesitated, taking one last glance at Merlin's door, and then left the room.

Gaius wilted when the door shut. Gwen's words rang in his ears. The two boys may be here in the castle again, but they were far from safe. Cursed, hurting, and traumatized, his worries seemed worse than before when the two were just missing. Merlin went missing before, limping back to Camelot, a tired grin on his face, and Gaius would patch him up and make him his favorite soup, and Merlin would bounce back. Gaius wasn't sure how to patch him up now. Arthur's wounds were going to be more complicated to heal. He hoped that the two would overcome the hurt between them, but he wasn't sure. It was difficult to be sure about anything these days.

Gaius breathed in. He listened to the sounds of life rousing throughout the castle. The footsteps that passed by his door, shouts outside the window, the clip-clopping of horse hooves in the courtyard. Those things don't change. He took comfort in that fact, could rely on it. He gazed blankly at Merlin's door while he sat and listened. Gaius wished they could stay in that room forever, asleep and away from the dangers that the kingdom and the enemies of it bring to them.

A warm streak dripped out of Gaius' eye. He wiped it away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sorry about the wait. I just graduated college and have been trying to sort things out, so forgive me. Thanks thanks thanks so so much for every one of you sticking with this fic and reading. The last chapter was so encouraging, all the comments and views and I just want you all to know, I appreciate that so much.
> 
> See you guys next month, hopefully. I'm starting grad school next week...so...yeah. See ya!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This chapter includes a depiction of a panic attack. It begins about halfway into the chapter in the paragraph that starts with "Arthur coughed-" and ends with "What do you need, Arthur?"
> 
> There isn't any information in that section that you will miss if you need to skip it.

Warm tendrils of light danced through the windows of the castle. Servants bustled about carrying trays and baskets, clean and dirty clothes for wash, food for breakfast. Camelot stretched its stone arches up into the sky and arose for the day, the troubles of its people not keeping it from coming alive just the same as every other morning.

Arthur's eyelids tickled. The soft glow of the sun woke him gently, unlike his abrupt awakening earlier in the morning, something he was reminded of as soon as he opened his eyes. Looking exhausted and beaten down, Merlin lay next to him. He was so close. Arthur studied his face; the twitch of his dark eyelashes, the movement of his eyes darting beneath faintly purple eyelids, his cracked pink lips parted ever so slightly to release each soft breath. Arthur wondered if he dreamed, if his sleep was plagued by the nightmarish reminders of their experience, of the reality that their lives had become.

In the morning light, the dark bruises on Merlin's body became more apparent. Arthur pursed his lips. He raised a hand, reaching out to touch the greenish-yellow marks on his neck, but stopped himself. He realized, in an instant, the intimacy of their current position. Tucked into Merlin's narrow bed, barely more than a cot, their bodies pressed up against each other. Arthur could feel the sharp prod of Merlin's hip jutting into his side, and he reprimanded himself silently for enjoying their closeness so much.

The memory of yesterday came back to his mind. Before the knights came, before they returned to Camelot. Their kiss. Arthur's heart stuttered. Merlin hadn't made any mention of it, of course, there were more pressing matters to attend to, but he acted like it hadn't happened. Perhaps he forgot, since he did pass out immediately after, but perhaps he didn't.

_It really isn't the appropriate time to start anything, and Merlin isn't in the best shape of his life. What if he though that I was trying to take advantage of the situation? I know his secret, I could expose him if he refused me... How could I be so insensitive? This is not the time to tell him how I feel... not when I don't even know how I feel. What if I decide that I can't accept his magic? I felt something for Merlin before, but Merlin with magic is a different story. He lied to me, the entire time we've know each other. I can't just brush that off. But I do care about him, and the relationship that we've built these past years can't be all lies. I have trusted him more than anyone, told him things that I've never told anyone else, and he's been there with me this whole time. He's always been there._

Arthur let his thought fade. He drew his attention back to the man that lay still asleep beside him. He was reminded of Merlin's repeated words throughout their time together, ' _I'll always be by your side, protecting you, till the day I die.'_ Arthur now understood the sincerity of his words.

Merlin's eyelids twitched again, this time, though, they opened and Merlin smiled weakly, his face still heavy with sleep.

"Mmmm. It's late." Merlin shoved his face into the bed."I should be getting to work. The prince will be furious with me." His mouth was muffled into the pillow, but Arthur could hear his smile.

"It's fine. I think the prince will understand." Arthur said with a smirk. How could he possibly be mad at a man whose head was currently tucked under a pillow, with tufts of wild black hair peeking out from underneath. Arthur pushed himself up on the bed and pulled out his pillow from behind him. He lifted it up above his head and brought it down onto Merlin's pillow with a resounding, ' _Thwomp_.' Merlin groaned and shifted half-heartedly like a dying worm. He twisted around blindly, his head still under the pillows, waving his hand around to push Arthur back in retaliation, and his arm landed on Arthur's thigh. He froze. Merlin wasn't sure what to do. They were silent for a moment, the awkwardness nearly ruining the gentle intimacy that they woke into, but a gurgling growl kept the tension from building any further. Arthur laughed and shoved at Merlin and pulled the pillows off his head. Merlin's eyes were shut, but he leaned back, his nose pointed at the ceiling. The sun cast a golden glow across his cheeks.

"Hungry?" Arthur asked, a playful lilt to his voice.

"Sounds like it. I don't think I've eaten since we were on the wagon with Donald yesterday." Merlin turned his head and let his eyes open. His heart skipped a beat. The sun lit Arthur's silhouette like a halo on an angel. The smile on his face was so open, so trusting, that if Merlin let himself, he could believe that none of the past week happened, that their relationship was different. Different from now, but also from before. Closer, accepting. There was a warm feeling in his heart that he didn't dare name, but drank it in greedily. He thought there wasn't any way that Arthur could feel the same, but Arthur's heart pitter-pattered in unison, as Merlin's eyes had opened. Even though Arthur knew that it was Merlin's magic slowly poisoning him, the blue in his eyes was now equally matched with the gold and when Merlin looked at him, he knew his head was going to lose the battle with his heart. However things end up, Merlin is going to be by his side. Somehow, they will fix it and when they do, Arthur will be able to look into his eyes, his all-blue eyes, and tell Merlin how he feels. But for now...

"Let's eat." Arthur shoved Merlin's head down onto the bed and practically ran out to greet Gaius and find some breakfast.

 

* * *

 

Arthur and Merlin were greeted with an empty room when they opened the door. They could see a small platter of food left on the table for them, some bread and cheese, a bit of meat, and a jug of water. Arthur went straight for the food, as he suddenly realized the emptiness of his stomach and the return of his appetite. Merlin followed him, slower and more carefully to avoid jostling his wounds. He found a note on the table from Gaius.

"Arthur. Gaius went to go talk to your father." Merlin sat down across from him, holding the note, so Arthur could read it. Arthur shrugged, and struggled to swallow his mouthful of food, so he could respond.

"MMrrln." He managed to say. He finally choked down the chunk of bread. "I'm sure it'll be fine. My father probably just wants an update on how we're doing. Since, you know, you did try to kill him last night..." He gave Merlin a pointed look. Merlin rolled his eyes. He pulled a small piece of bread from the platter.

"I guess. I don't know. It just makes me nervous. We haven't been able to talk through what happened with him yet and he might mention something that gets your father all, " He waves his hands around and makes a crazed face. "Y'know?" He pauses.

"Yeah." Arthur nods solemnly.

"Arthur. Have you thought about what you're going to tell him?" Merlin's voice is soft. Even though they seemed to have a good talk the night before, Arthur did say he wasn't sure about his magic. He might have changed his mind about turning him in.

"Not exactly, but I know there are some details I have to leave out, if that's what you're getting at." Arthur smirked. He pulled the jug of water closer and poured two cups and handed one to Merlin. His stomach already felt uncomfortably full, bloated with anxiety rather than food. He took a small sip of water. The coolness ran down his throat and soothed some of the discomfort.

"I just mean it would be smart to have the same story of what happened, so if your father asks either one of us, we can tell him the same thing. He'll believe you, but if I get caught in a lie, and he figures it out-." Merlin gulped.

"He's not going to figure it out. And he's not going to be talking to you anytime soon anyways. Not until we figure out what Morgana did to you. It'll be fine. Stop worrying so much, you're making _me_ nervous." He rolled his eyes dramatically. He was nervous. His father might not believe what he told him. He had a tendency of making his own conclusions about things and with what happened last night, with Merlin trying to attack him, he already had enough evidence to run with. Arthur just hoped that whatever explanation they came up with was enough.

"I see you two found the food." Gaius was smiling as he walked through the door. He looked exhausted, but didn't seem like his talk with the king went badly. Merlin perked up at his voice and turned around too fast. The smile on his face turned to a grimace and he wilted with a pained groan.

"Owww. That hurt." Gaius patted him softly on the head, giving him a gentle look of concern and admonishment. He sat down next to him at the table.

"Careful, Merlin."

"Now you tell me." Merlin wheezed out followed by a huff that was supposed to sound like a laugh, but didn't quite succeed.

"You spoke with my father?" Arthur was anxious to know what his father had said, what Gaius had told him.

"Yes, Arthur. He wanted to know how you were doing. I told him you were still asleep when I left. He is going to send a guard in a few hours, so he can speak to you, but he is busy for the time being. He hopes that you are feeling well."

"Did you tell him anything else? He didn't ask about Merlin and last night?" Arthur felt the anxiety bubbling in his stomach like a hot spring. He felt the sudden urge to run or hide, but he wasn't sure why.

"He did ask how Merlin was doing, and if we had made any progress on removing the curse. I told him that we hadn't had the time to look into it yet, and spent last night working on healing Merlin and giving him time to rest. He did ask if there was anything important that you may have told me about what happened with Morgana, but he wanted to hear the rest from you, Arthur."

Arthur nodded. He pressed his shaking hands together, wondering why his heart had been pounding out of control as though he had been falling to his death. Merlin looked up from where he had been staring blankly at the table, drawn in to the motion of Arthur's hands. He nudged Arthur's leg with his foot. Arthur jumped slightly, and looked up. He caught Merlin's soft smile, the gentle crinkle of his eyes, and felt his stomach settle.

Merlin cleared his throat and turned to face Gaius.

"How much did Arthur tell you last night?"

"Not much." Gaius cast a concerned look to Arthur as he remembered his dead eyes as they walked him into the castle, his sobs into Gaius' chest. "Why don't you start at the beginning?"

So he did. Merlin told Gaius about the hunting trip, the quiet of the forest, the sudden appearance of Morgana's henchmen. Gaius asked about the liquid on the arrows that hit them, but the only explanation they could offer was that it was something Morgana had made. Merlin continued on, his voice growing shaky as he recalled their harsh march to the castle, being dragged across rock covered paths, through thick bushes. He spoke of the castle, its dark looming presence lit by the setting sun, the stones covered in vines, cracked and falling apart. As the story grew closer to their meeting with Morgana, Arthur noticed Merlin's hesitation. He described their walk in superfluous detail. Gaius was too polite to push him on, also sensing his discomfort.

Arthur coughed and jumped in when Merlin paused. As Arthur described what he had experienced, meeting with Morgana, being taken away, hearing Merlin, and what Merlin had told him had happened; he settled his foot next to Merlin's under the table, letting it brush up against it. He tried to let the words tumble from his mouth without registering them in his mind, like he was just telling a story, something that had never happened to them, just made-up words in a book. But they were real. They were too real and he knew that. He pressed on, filtering his internal conflict from the narrative, trying to stick to the facts. _Gaius doesn't need to know about panicking in the cell listening to Merlin screaming, he needs to know about what he was screaming about, he needs to know about the mark she gave me, about the key she dropped, about how it must have been intentional._ Suddenly, he was breaking Merlin out, they were running through the forest, hiding, Merlin was vomiting, the hallucinations, walking for hours, so thirsty, tired, the dragon, the inn, walking. Arthur felt like he was there again, in his mind, living the memories, Merlin next to him, pounding heart, he couldn't breathe. Too much. It was too much. Were the walls getting closer? They were, the room was getting smaller. He couldn't see Gaius or Merlin anymore, it was too dark and too loud and too hot. Arthur pressed his forehead to the table, squeezing his eyes shut as hard as he could. Hot tears leaked out of his eyes. His breaths were erratic gasps, like he was drowning, fighting to keep from suffocating. Arthur wrapped his arms tight around his chest, scratching at his arms, squeezing so tight.

Merlin panicked. He rose from the table in an instant and rushed to his side, getting close, touching him, trying to get him to stop. He shouted his name and pulled at his arms. Gaius was suddenly behind him and pulled him away. He reassured him that Arthur would be alright and if he wanted to help, he needed to give him space. Gaius sat next to Arthur at the table and spoke to him softly and calmly.

"Arthur, can you hear me? I need you to show me that you can hear me." Gaius bent his head down. Arthur whimpered and gave a quick nod. His arms were wrapped tight around his chest. His breathing was like that of a dog out for a run.

"Good, Arthur. That's very good. I need you to take a deep breath with me. Can you do that?" Gaius exaggerated his inhale so that Arthur could hear it. He exhaled and Arthur nodded again. He swallowed thickly and struggled to match Gaius' breath, fighting against his panicked panting. Gaius guided him through another breath, this time to slightly better results.

"Very good. And another, inhale...good, and exhale... You're safe now, Arthur. Just breathe." Arthur drew in a few more shaky breaths. His arms loosened slightly around his chest. He could feel his erratic pulse slowing.

"Arthur, do you feel like you can lift your head off the table? You are in a safe place." Gaius avoided touching Arthur, he was close enough to speak quietly, but not so close that Arthur felt threatened by his presence. Merlin had retreated to Gaius cot across the room, feeling useless to help, but wishing he could.

Arthur lifted his head slowly; Gaius cautioned him not to go too quickly. Arthur's thoughts quickly turned from panic to shame and revulsion. How could he let this story scare him like that, how is going to tell his father if he couldn't even tell Gaius. His breathing started to race again, and Gaius quickly jumped back in.

"Arthur, I need you to focus on the present with me, focus on your breaths, in...and out..., in...and out..., just breathe. You are safe. I know what you are feeling is scary, but it can't hurt you. I'm going to count to ten and I want you to focus on your breathing." Gaius counted, slowly, drawing each number out. Arthur breathed. He opened his eyes. He took another breath. He saw Gaius next to him. He took another breath. He pushed away the thoughts of his father. He sighed deeply.

"What do you need, Arthur?" Gaius asked gently. He offered him his cup of water. Arthur shook his head and shrugged.

He felt exhausted.

"I-I'm tired." He admitted embarrassed, remembering the fact that he had only woken up a short time ago. Gaius smiled and nodded.

"Why don't you go lie down on my cot? I need to check Merlin's bandages anyways."

Merlin had wandered back over, hovering near the edge of the table, scanning for any area he could be of help, but finding none. Arthur stood up and his knees buckled. Merlin reached out and helped him up. Arthur glared, mostly at his own perceived weakness, but also at Merlin, helping him. He shouldn't need help, he's fine. Nothing is wrong with him. He tried to brush Merlin away, but Merlin let out a whimpering sigh.

"Arthur, please let me do this for you." He whispered. Arthur realized in that moment how useless Merlin must have felt all this time. Without his magic, usually able to fix things with a word. He didn't like it, but he let Merlin help him over to the cot. Arthur laid down, turning away from the two men and closed his eyes. He willed his mind to go blank, praying that his thoughts would stop and let him sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Gaius gave Merlin a concerned look when he turned around. He picked up fresh bandages and ointment and led Merlin back into his room, so they wouldn't disturb Arthur. Merlin shut the door quietly. Gaius pulled up a stool and Merlin sat down on his bed, and pulled his shirt off. Merlin noticed the room was colder now. When he woke up earlier, he felt warm, the sun shining on his face, Arthur smiling next to him, their light, playful banter. Now the colors seemed faded, the sun didn't warm his skin the same way. They sat in silence for a few minutes while Gaius worked on checking how his wounds were healing. Finally, Merlin couldn't keep himself from asking.

"Gaius?" Merlin said, his voice small, sad. "I don't understand. Arthur was fine this morning."

Gaius pulled off another bandage from Merlin's torso and sighed.

"You two went through quite and ordeal, Merlin. These things affect people in different ways. Perhaps, Arthur hasn't had a chance to let himself deal with the situation. Reliving all that can be very difficult." Merlin nodded.

"I guess. The whole time we were coming back, he was making sure I was okay, even though he was upset that I've been lying to him." Merlin lowered his head. He knew that it was his fault they got in this mess. If he hadn't lied to Arthur, maybe things would have turned out different. If he never had magic, maybe Morgana would have let them go.

Gaius finished checking Merlin's bandages and picked up the old ones to get washed. He patted Merlin on the knee and smiled.

"I've seen men come back from worse situations than you two. I know you boys are going to be alright." Gaius' reassuring voice was a comfort to him, but Merlin couldn't help but doubt his words.

"Thank you, Gaius." Merlin hoped his gratitude sounded sincere, because he did appreciate Gaius taking care of them. Gaius shook his head and sat the bandages down. He stood up and pulled Merlin into a tight, but gentle hug. Merlin held tight back, fighting to keep his eyes from tearing up again. Gaius' breath caught in his throat when he tried to speak.

"You're going to be alright, Merlin. You are like a son to me, and every time something like this happens, I-," Gaius couldn't finish his sentence. He pulled Merlin tighter to him before giving him a pat on the back and letting him go. When they pulled away, they realized they both had tears streaming down their faces, and immediately broke out laughing.

Merlin pulled Gaius' wrinkled hand in both of his hands. He smiled.

"You are more a father to me than anyone, Gaius. I'm sorry I've caused so much worry to you, but it is nice knowing that someone is waiting for me to come back. So...thank you." Gaius nodded and smiled back. They wiped their faces of the evidence of their emotional talk and Gaius sighed, stood, and turned to leave.

"I need to go inform the king that Arthur needs more time to rest. I'll be back in a little while." He walked out of the room, and Merlin heard the main door open and close. Merlin decided to do some research while he was alone, so he knelt down and pulled his book out from under his bed, and sat on the floor, searching for the familiar symbols or words or anything that could help them.

About an hour later, Gaius still hadn't returned and he had flipped through every page of the book, with no results. Merlin shoved the book back into its hiding place, stood up and stretched his sore muscles. His window was open slightly, and the dense scent of the castle made his head hurt. He wandered out of his room and sat at the table again. His body drooped and he let his head fall onto the wood surface. The quiet surrounded him, but while it was typically a welcome presence in his normal hectic schedule of manservanting and sorcerering, now it was just unnerving. He knew there was things he should be doing, more researching, trying to figure out this curse that Morgana gave him, testing the limits of the binding spell. He simply didn't have the motivation. Merlin didn't want to deal with it anymore. Arthur's panic this morning had terrified him, had confirmed his worst fears. That without his magic he _was_ useless. He turned his head so he could see Arthur sleeping on the cot. Merlin sighed and closed his eyes. _I can't protect him anymore. It is my destiny and now I can't do anything to keep him safe._

A pound at the door pulled him from his current session in self-deprecation. Three guards greeted him, wearing matching grim expressions. Merlin glanced back at Arthur, still asleep.

"Um, Gaius was meant to inform the king that Arthur is still recovering and is unable to meet with him today." Merlin spoke quietly and pointed back at Arthur, to show them that, yes, he was here, and he was obviously still recovering.

The guard in the middle shook his head. One of them pulled a set of shackles out from behind him.

"We're not here for him." He smirked.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN
> 
> Thank you all again for reading. I'm sorry it has taken so long for this chapter. I really struggled to get the wording right here. That darn writer's block got me stuck so many times.  
> I tried to do my research on helping someone with a panic attack for the middle of this chapter, but all the information was from various sources on the internet, so I apologize if I got something wrong.
> 
> Once again, I appreciate all of you sticking with this fic and I hope to update again in a few weeks!
> 
> Thanks!


	14. Chapter 14

The sight of the shackles set off alarm bells in Merlin’s head. His eyes grew wide, and his heart pounded so hard, he was sure the guards were able to hear it.

“I-I… what?” His brain froze. He was not expecting to be summoned and especially not by a group of intimidating guards that seemed set upon locking him up…again. One of the guards, Rowan, who was a frequent conversation partner of Merlin’s and had become a good friend, stood behind the other guards avoiding eye contact with Merlin, like he didn’t want to be there.

Dain, the guard holding the shackles, shook them at Merlin, bringing his attention back to them.

“The king needs to speak to you.” Alistair, the third guard, likely the superior of the other two, said his words slow and intentional, like he was speaking to a child. Merlin shook his head. He felt the panic bubbling in his stomach. He willed himself not to vomit again.

“No.” He choked out. “I can’t speak to him. I can't be in the same room as him. Find Gaius, he can talk to the king.”

“We weren't ordered to fetch Gaius, servant. You're coming with us now and that's an order.” Alistair spat out, venom lacing his words. “Now put your arms out.” He snatched the shackles from the other guard, stepped forward, and reached for Merlin’s arms. He towered several inches over Merlin, and Merlin stepped back through the doorway, tripping on his feet, and fell to the ground.

The intense sensation of helplessness overcame him. The memory of their capture in the forest, the painful journey to Morgana’s castle, his time with Morgana; he felt as though all the air was sucked from his lungs. Merlin could almost smell the scent of blood and dirt in the air, and the sensation of the leather cuffs on his wrists and ankles. Merlin turned back to where Arthur slept on Gaius' cot. He thought briefly about waking him; that he could sort the situation out and speak to the king for him. He shook it away; he remembered the fear on Arthur’s face being pulled into those memories again and how he couldn’t do anything at all to help Arthur. Merlin couldn’t just pull him back into those memories. He wouldn’t be the cause of his fear. Merlin realized he could still protect Arthur, the only way he knew how.

So he was quiet. He would handle this himself. Hoping that Uther would be reasonable, he accepted whatever fate was to come of him, if it meant preventing Arthur more pain. He nodded sadly to the guards, pointed at his bare feet, and walked to his room to put on his shoes. They noticed the change in his demeanor and trailed behind him, watching to make sure he didn’t try to escape. Their boots made loud thuds with each step, and Merlin rolled his eyes before turning and raising a finger to his lips.

“Shhh.” He pointed to Arthur, his eyes threatening as though saying, _wake him and I will do bad things to you_. Of course, in his current state and with his reputation in the castle (mostly due to Arthur’s public insistence that he was a useless and weak servant), his threat fell a bit flat, but the guards quieted down all the same, preferring to avoid the prince’s anger at being woken up. Merlin finished buckling up his shoes, and he and the guards walked out to the hall and closed the door. Arthur's help was now out of his reach. No going back now. He willed himself to keep control, focusing on every movement, making every thought intentional. He wasn't going to let Morgana take control.

“Arms.” The guard commanded. Merlin obeyed. He flinched as the heavy cuffs clasped around his wrists. The hole in his chest where his magic previously resided felt even larger now, like a sense memory from the magic binding cuff Morgana’s men used. The guards shoved him through the castle halls, dragging him when he moved too slowly, treating him as though he were a criminal, rather than a witness to be questioned.

Merlin tried to ignore the accusatory stares of the servants, some his friends, others just passing faces, but he couldn’t. It was like a recurring nightmare he'd had since arriving in Camelot, except his magic is still mostly a secret now and Arthur wasn’t actively trying to kill him. They walked slower as they grew closer to the council chambers where he was to be questioned. Merlin couldn't help but think that Uther had somehow found out about his magic; that he had finally made the connection and now he was going to make Merlin pay with his life. Merlin caught the eye of Rowan.

“Do you know what the king wanted to ask me?” He whispered trying not to let Alistair hear. He heard anyway because he was right next to Merlin and Merlin didn’t whisper very quietly.

“Don’t think he planned on asking too many questions.” Alistair grinned wickedly. “From what it seemed, he really just wanted a reason to throw you in the dungeons.” Merlin’s eyes widened. “He already had some people cleaning up a nice comfy cell for you downstairs. Isn’t that so considerate of him?” He laughed at the distress now painting Merlin’s face and then shoved him along.

Merlin cursed internally. He should have woken Arthur. There’s no way they could fix anything with him locked up. _How could I be so stupid to think I could handle this on my own? To think Uther would play fair? HA. He’s always been suspicious of me, and then I attack him last night, obviously controlled by magic. It’s a shock he didn’t lock me up right then and there._ He looked around the halls for something, someone to help him, to get word to Arthur or Gaius, but there was nothing, no one. He knew they were only moments from reaching their destination and he was losing all hope.

Until at last, a chance. They turned the corner, the doors to the council chambers were just ahead, but at the far end of the hallway, Merlin saw his savior.

“Guinevere! Gwen!” She kept walking. The guards pushed him faster to the door, telling him to shut up. Merlin pulled as hard as he could and gathered a deep breath in his lungs and, “GUINEVERE!!!!!!”

She turned around, dropping a pile of clean, folded sheets on the floor. Immediately, at the sight of Merlin, shackled and being shoved into the council chambers, she started running.

“Merlin!” Merlin shook his head.

“GWEN! I need you to get Arthur! The king's going to throw me in the dungeon! Please!” The guards shoved Merlin through the doors, shouting at him to shut up. Merlin fought against his restraints. He was overcome by the feeling of self-preservation, a feeling he had often lacked in the past few years. "NO, WAIT..."

Alistair told Rowan to deal with her, and he shut the doors. Gwen could still hear Merlin calling out to her behind the thick wood. She watched the guard cautiously. She knew he wasn't going to let her tell Arthur what had happened, but he just nodded and said, “Go get him.”

With her eyes wide and heart racing, she ran.

 

* * *

 

 

 Arthur woke when the door slammed shut. He looked around quickly. The room was empty. He could hear muffled voices from the hallway, stern and demanding, but he wasn't awake enough to figure out what was being said. He shut his eyes again and fell back into an exhausted sleep.

 

 

"ARTHUR!"

Arthur shot up in the cot, ready for action like a true knight; except he wasn't quite ready for action, as he stood up, tripped on a stool, and fell to the floor in a moaning heap. Luckily, his assailant was just Gwen and he wasn't about to have his head chopped off.

"Agh. Guinevere. What is it?" He blinked slowly and rubbed his sore leg. Arthur did recognize that Gwen's tone could mean, _Hey, something's not so great right now,_ but he just was not conscious enough to be concerned.

"Your father brought Merlin to speak to him. He was shackled like a criminal, Arthur, and Merlin said he was going to put him in the dungeons. They're in the council chambers right now." Gwen's words were like a bucket of cold water, jolting his foggy mind to wide awake. Struck with a sudden sense of urgency, he pulled on his boots and raced out the door. Guinevere trailed behind him.

"Gwen!" He shouted back. "Find Gaius! I have a feeling we might need his help." Gwen nodded and ran off in another direction.

Arthur wasn't sure what he was going to find when he walked into the room, but he hoped he wasn't too late.

 

* * *

 

 

Rowan entered the dimly lit council chambers after sending Gwen away and stood guarding the doors. Merlin was kneeling, shackled, on the hard stone floor. Curtains were drawn over the windows leaving the ominous flickering of candles as the only source of light. They cast shadows that seemed to dance around the room, clawing to get closer to Merlin, whose chains held him in place to iron rings inlaid into the stone of the floor. Alistair stood behind him and gripped his neck in his muscular hand.

Merlin couldn't breathe. He could feel the air pressing from inside his lungs, fighting to get out, but couldn't seem to allow it to release. He knew what was coming. Morgana would take control again, his nightmare would come true, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He begged any higher power that was listening to let Gwen reach Arthur in time and that Arthur would come to stop him. Arthur had to know that he tried, that he wanted to fix this. Whatever happened in this room, he didn't want it to happen.

Merlin's heart skipped a beat. Footsteps. Merlin felt his muscles tighten. He strained against the cuffs, the biting pain of the metal digging into his wounded skin creating no hesitation. The guards straightened their posture as the footsteps grew closer. Merlin could hear the steady slow pace of the steps. A faint chill ran through his chest and Merlin's breath released in an angry huff.

The doors shoved open.

 

* * *

 

 

"My lady, I believe it's time to leave."

Morgana sighed. She shoved past the man, his face vaguely familiar and his name unremembered, another soldier paid by her promises of glory and revenge.

She placed a hand on the crumbling stone of the castle wall. She led her group of men across the bridge and out of the ancient structure before turning around.

Morgana raised her hand and said, " _Castel ahreosath_.” Her eyes flashed gold.

The castle shuddered. Stones fall from the walls and into the dried up moat. With a crash like thunder, the once impressive fortress collapsed into the earth, leaving only a pile of rubble and dust in its place. Morgana's makeshift army looked on in confusion and shock. She smirked.

"Don't worry, boys. We're going to have a new home soon enough." She pulled herself onto her sleek black horse and they marched into the trees.

 

* * *

 

 

Merlin felt sick. Uther sat in his chair across the room, tapping his hand on the armrest as though he were waiting for Merlin to say something. Perhaps he was, but Merlin knew if he opened his mouth, he was either going to vomit or the action would be enough to let Morgana’s curse take hold, and neither of those options were preferable, so he kept his lips pressed together tight. They waited there, watching each other.

Uther watched him with the eyes of a hunter. Merlin had seen Arthur watching prey in the woods like that, moments before releasing a bolt into the flesh of a deer. In this case, Merlin was the deer. His muscles shook. He was so tense, trying with every ounce of energy left to maintain control of his body, but he could feel the chill of Morgana's magic creeping through his veins. It grew closer and closer to his head with each pounding beat of his heart. A drop of sweat slid down his back and soaked into his trousers.

How long had they been in this room? Minutes, hours? Where was Arthur? Everything would be alright if he just waited for those footsteps outside the door. Arthur would pull him out of this room and he wouldn't have to worry about killing the king and being executed.

But the seconds kept coming, and no footsteps. Merlin could feel the slow pulse of the dark magic in his veins. It drifted from his chest down to his toes, back up to his fingers, and was making its way to his neck. He felt the tears leaking out of his eyes. _Please. I don't want to die. Not like this_. Uther stood from his chair and stepped slowly towards Merlin. Each step closer was another crack in Merlin's resolve. He felt his control slipping. His veins up to his neck were like creeping black serpents across his skin. Uther couldn't quite see his face shrouded in the shadows from the candlelight, so he stepped closer still.

"Stay....back..." The words were choked out from behind clenched teeth. Merlin's focus slipped for one moment to warn the king of the consequences of his current course of action. Uther scoffed. He wasn't the type of man to be told what to do.

He lunged forward and snatched Merlin's face in his claw like fingers. His fingernails scratched into the darkening skin of his cheeks. Uther jerked his face to him, pulling his whole body forward as far as the shackles would allow, peering into the black of Merlin's eyes, relishing the tears that dribbled down his skin. Merlin gasped at the sudden pain.

"You stupid boy. I know you're working with her." He snarled. "You blame your sorcery on a curse. You committed treason, intended to murder the king. Arthur may be fooled, but I am too smart to be tricked by the likes of your kind. Tell me what you know and I will arrange to kill you quickly."

Merlin's vision blurred. The shock of Uther’s assault was all Morgana's curse needed to take hold of his body. Merlin's face contorted into a condescending scowl. It took two quick snaps and a dull flash of gold in his eyes and his hands were free from the heavy shackles. His hands shot up and seized Uther, pulling his hand off Merlin's face, and threw the king across the room. Alistair, who was still stood behind Merlin, unsheathed his sword and rushed forward. Merlin threw him into the wall, knocking over a candelabra as he dropped to the floor. Rowan stood at the door, frozen.

"Merlin! Stop!" He held his hands out in front of him, and stepped forward. Merlin turned to face him and Rowan gasped. In the shadows and candlelight, and with the streaks of black slithering across his skin, Merlin looked demonic, like a beast from a nightmare. He raised his hand and Rowan shook his head.

"Merlin, no." Merlin's eyes glowed gold and Rowan fell to the floor, his body motionless. The possessed man scanned the room. Dain had fled, perhaps to find help, perhaps to save his own life, but he was no concern to Merlin. He had one purpose and it was currently struggling to stand up.

Uther had fallen to the floor in front of his throne, hissing with the pain from being thrown across the room. Merlin was by his side just as he pulled himself up onto his seat. Merlin shoved him into the throne and Uther groaned at the pain in his wounded body.

"You stupid king." Merlin growled, his voice low and threatening. He gripped Uther's throat in his hand, tight enough to restrict his breathing. Uther gasped and clawed at Merlin's hand, his eyes growing wide with panic. Merlin’s eyes blazed with a deep and painful ferocity, even though their color was an abyss of black. The king knew his situation was desperate. In the deepest part of his chest, he felt ashamed of his hubris, his conceited expectation of victory over all magic. He felt the struggle of his mortality in the sweaty fingers of the man in front of him.

"You lie to your kingdom." Merlin continued. He squeezed his right hand tighter with every word and relished in the gaping breaths Uther struggled to release. "You are nothing but a scared weak man. You have committed more crimes than those you condemn and you deserve to join them in death." Merlin pressed harder around the king's throat, his left hand rising up, preparing to strike at last. Inside his mind, Merlin could feel Morgana's rejoice, her silent elation at finally being able to finish this.

Merlin opened his mouth to recite the fatal spell, when he was struck on the head and his vision went black.

 

* * *

 

 

“You knew this would happen! Did you not recall last night!? I told you to give us time to fix this and now two men are dead!” Arthur paced furiously in front of the king. Uther sat in his chair, holding a cool wet cloth on his bruised throat. The bodies of Rowan and Alistair had been removed from the room. There was a group of guards at each door and three huddled behind the king. The curtain were drawn back from the windows, and in the light of the afternoon, the threatening atmosphere of the council chambers faded back into the stale diplomacy.

“I am still the king, Arthur. Watch your tone or you will be joining him in the dungeons.” He snapped, his voice rough and damaged from the near strangulation he had experienced, but still held enough bite that any other man would back down immediately. Arthur, however…

“You can’t be serious. You can’t put him down there. Look at him! He’s half dead! He needs rest and medicine, not to be shackled in a cell again!” He shook off the memories of their capture with Morgana and focused on the present. This wasn’t the time to spiral into another panic.

“Arthur. I understand that you have grown to like the servant, but he has betrayed you and he nearly succeeded in assassinating me. He is working for Morgana and you cannot see it now, but you will. He will not stop until we are all dead.” Even though the exhaustion from the ordeal was apparently setting in on Uther, he stood his ground. This was not a man to admit his wrongs, nor a man to neglect his long-held beliefs, and he would not see his son swayed by the seduction of sorcerers.

“No. Father, he is cursed. He won’t stop because Morgana has put a curse on him! You can’t lock him up for that! I won’t allow it to happen!” Arthur breathed heavy. He realized he had been telling the truth to Merlin. He would protect him, he wasn’t going to let anything happen to him. He had doubted his own words even when he said them before, but faced with reality, he could see that they weren’t just a promise, but an unbreakable instinct.

“Sire. I believe he is waking up. We need to get him out of this room right away.” Merlin’s eyes fluttered. Gaius sat beside him, tending to a large bump on the back of his head. Merlin moaned. He wasn’t fully awake, so the curse was still dormant within him.

“Guards. Take the boy down to the dungeons. Shackle him in the sorcerer’s cell.” Uther ordered.

“Father! Don’t do this!” Arthur ran in front of Merlin, obstructing the guards’ path from taking him. He glared menacingly.

 

“Take my son, as well. Make sure they are not near each other.” Several more guards stepped in, taking hold of Arthur, who fought, struggled, and kicked at them until them shoved him to the ground and shackled him. The other guards took Merlin from Gaius’ side and carried him out of the council chambers. Gaius watched in distress as they left.

“Father!” Arthur shouted one last time before his voice drowned into the bustling of the castle.

 

Gaius tended to the king in a stiff silence until he was dismissed with a terse wave of the hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *trumpet sounds* I'm back! Sorry to leave you waiting with that cliffhanger last chapter... but y'know life... I was finishing up summer classes for grad school and I had to write 3 papers that were about 16 pages each, so that was a blast... and I had my birthday, which is fun, but most exciting...  
> We passed 5000 hits on this story! Wow! I think that is so awesome and I am so glad that I've managed to keep updating all this time. I realized that it will be two years since I started this October. Wow. That is crazy. I'm sorry it's taking so long.
> 
> Anyways, I am not promising anything, but I am going to attempt to get another chapter out next week before my fall semester starts because I have some days off because after that my life is going to get SUPER busy, but I will try to keep updating through grad school and my internship. We shall see though.
> 
> Thanks again!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some graphic scenes in it. (Blood and violence) So, if you are not able to read those kinds of scenes, please skip the fourth section of the chapter. I will put a safe description of that section in the end note, so you can read that if you need to.
> 
> There are also quite a few added characters and I tried to describe them pretty well, but if you need a refresher, just check the end note and there will be brief descriptions of the various new names.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, enjoy.

The king sighed.

The desire to strike, to punish, to eradicate burned in his gut like poison. The feeling of Merlin’s hand clenching his throat remained as though he were still in the room. Uther would not admit it, but the encounter had left him shaken, to have gotten so close to death, and by the hand of a servant he had assigned to his only son.

His heart clenched at the thought of Arthur. He wanted to keep him safe from harm, to raise him to be a great ruler, but his rebellious behavior and constant disrespect of their laws and traditions showed he was not ready for that responsibility, and he still needed to be put into his place. How could he not see that his servant was lying to him? How could he not realize that he was obviously working with Morgana? All sorcerers lie and scheme and desire to take all that isn’t theirs. Uther thought Arthur had learned, that he knew better than to take the word of those things. The years of executions, trials, hunting them down; Uther made sure that Arthur was exposed to all of it, so he would see that they deserved the punishment that they were given. The king worried his son had forgotten how dangerous they were, that he wasn't taking his warnings seriously. He feared for the future of his kingdom should his life be taken soon, as it certainly could, given recent events. He feared for the future his son would bring if given the chance.

“Your highness.” One of his knights knelt before his throne, bowing his head.

“Sir Hector.” Uther nodded. Sir Hector stood and looked at the king.

“Your highness, we have news from the patrols. Our men have found a group of suspected sorcerers traveling from an outlying village. They are on their way back to the castle now.”

“How many are there?”

“There are six, sire,” he paused. “Three adults and three children.”

Uther grimaced and shook his head. The knight cleared his throat before continuing.

“One of the men, sire; he was identified as a former knight of Camelot, a deserter, Sir Benedict.”

Sir Hector watched the king’s muscles tense, and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the arms of his throne. Uther closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Sire?”

“Bring them to me when they arrive, Sir Hector. I should like to interrogate them all before their execution.”

The knight nodded. The king's ruling did not come as a surprise to him, Uther had executed many children, but perhaps the years had made Hector soft. Perhaps he felt guilty for his participation in the murders of these innocent people. Hector had often battled with these emotions, and as he always did, he buried them deep down inside, knowing he would never be able to live with himself should he confront them.

Uther was quiet now and had turned his attention away from the knight, so Hector took that as his dismissal and walked to the door.

“Sir Hector.” The knight turned and bowed his head. “Has there been any news of Morgana?”

“No, my lord.”

Uther nodded, disappointed.

“You may go.”

The guards pulled open the doors and Sir Hector marched out, his face expressionless.

 

* * *

 

The chill of the darkening evening air bit into the skin of the loosely clothed prisoners. Benedict held his daughter and his older son close to his sides. They looked up at their father with wide eyes, confused and scared by the terror they saw in his expression. They had known their father to be a brave man, cautious and careful, but never fearful, never like this. Benedict's wife, Leuce, protective and passionate, clung to their younger son; he had taken his first steps only the month before, and they still had the audacity to shackle him. She was angry, wearing her fury like war paint. Her face was streaked with the blood of a knight she bit when he tried to take her son away.

"How long must we wait here?!" Leuce's brother, Leneus demanded of the guards. They had been brought to the small unfurnished room beside the council chambers nearly an hour ago. One of the guards snickered.

"You that eager to be excecuted?" The guard shoved Leneus to the ground. His shackles rattled as they hit the stones, sending echoes in the empty room. Benedict pulled his children tighter, trying to cover their faces with his calloused hands. He could feel their thin bodies shaking beside him. The guards pulled his daughter out of his grasp.

"No!" Benedict received a fist to his jaw for the outburst. He groaned at the sudden pain, but turned back to the guard and stood tall and determined. Benedict was a proud man, and he had to be strong for his children. His daughter stood still in the guard's clutches, his hand digging into the soft skin of her arms. Her eyes held the same fire as her mother's, and though she was afraid, she pulled strength from her family. The guard knelt in front of her face and grinned. His teeth were brown, his breath like rotting meat. She spat at him. He immediately recoiled, anger rising, and drew his hand back.

"You little-!" The door opened just as he prepared to strike the young girl.

The king was ready for them.

 

* * *

 

The dungeons felt colder than usual. Arthur pulled his tunic tighter around his skin and tried to rub away the bumps that bristled on his arms. A guard passed in front of his cell. Every five minutes, then another one, and another one. Arthur couldn’t remember how long he had been down here, each five minutes felt like the same five minutes just starting over again. He sat curled up on one of the walls of his cell, the rough stones digging into his back. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the overwhelming stench of urine that permeated the air. When they brought him down here, he thought he would go into another panic. The situation was practically identical to his capture in Morgana’s castle, but instead he was calm. Well, not calm, but patient. He at least knew where Merlin was, locked up two cells away from him, that he was safe for now, and that they would figure out a plan to get them both out of here in no time. He took another breath and rubbed his arms.

 

Merlin was not calm. He was upset. He was angry and he was terrified. His stomach turned viciously, threatening to release onto the floor. He scrubbed violently at his eyes, and gasped short breaths. He sat pressed up against the wall closest to Arthur's cell, hoping to leach some of his energy from it. His body contorted into a strange shape as though it was trying to be as small as possible. His discomfort was compounded by the overkill of chains and cuffs that had covered him in, trying to keep him from breaking out again. They weighed heavy on his sore skin and painfully cut into his wrists.

 _I killed them. Those men, I killed them._ The thoughts repeated over and over in his head. He could feel it still; the ghostly sensation of power flowing through his veins. It was like freedom, like oxygen, like he had been drowning and he suddenly breached the surface again, gasping for air. But then it was fire, he had no control over its spread and it killed those guards. _I killed the guards._ Merlin blinked away hot angry tears. The snap of Rowan's neck. His limp body collapsing to the ground. He had heard his pleading, asking Merlin to stop, but he couldn’t. And Uther. Uther’s neck, moist and weak, so mortal in his hands; he had felt his pulse throbbing beneath his skin. Merlin had thought of Uther’s crimes, he deserved to die more than Rowan, more than Alistair, and Merlin had almost wanted to let that last spell leave his mouth, to set the magic-users free of Uther's decimation. He was free of Morgana for now, but the hole in his chest had also returned. The taste of magic, just for a moment, had left him feeling emptier than before.

Merlin sighed and looked at his hands. Brown, red, calloused. Bloodied and dirty. Were these the hands of Emrys, the hands destined to help bring magic back to Camelot? To unite Albion? He had done so much in his past years with Arthur, but what did he have to show for it? Arthur. He was still alive, but Merlin had also helped drive magic further into the shadows, had allowed Morgana to go down this dark path, had allowed magic-users to be executed. He shook his head, allowing the shame and guilt to consume him. This was his fault, he had been selfish and naive and scared and he deserved the punishment that was coming to him.

Something touched his back. Merlin jumped and shuffled away from the wall of the cell. There was a small grate between the cells at the bottom of the wall with thin bars across it, and a hand was sticking out of it. It moved around, patting the floor, and then was pulled back through to be replaced by a familiar face.

"Arthur!" Merlin's breath caught in his chest. He had never felt so happy to see Arthur's face. He shuffled over to the grate and moved as close to Arthur as he could. Merlin jammed his hands through the narrow bars and Arthur held them in his own. They were quiet a moment before Merlin's questions starting bubbling in his mind. "How did you get the guards to let you over here? I thought your father ordered them to put you far away from me?"

Arthur smiled and rubbed Merlin's hands.

"You know, it's amazing what a simple bribe can do... and I can only stay in here as long as my father doesn't come down to check on me." Arthur's eyes were locked on Merlin. Merlin blushed under his intense gaze.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"I missed you," He cleared his throat. "When Gwen told me what happened, I was terrified I wouldn't make it in time. I was so scared that I would lose you to Morgana forever."

Merlin sighed and looked away, shame filling his chest again.

"You didn't make it though. I killed those guards. I may not have killed your father, but I murdered them and they didn't deserve that."

"Merlin, that was Morgana. You didn't do that. She used you to kill them, but it wasn't you." Arthur held Merlin's hands tighter as though he was trying to push his words in through his skin.

"I felt it though, Arthur. I was there, and I felt all of it. I wanted to kill your father." Arthur's mouth parted with a small gasp. "And I don't know if that was her or if it was me that wanted that."

"It was her, Merlin. I know you're good, you wouldn't do that." Merlin pulled his hands out of Arthur's. He pulled away from the grate.

"You don't know me, Arthur," His voice was cold and detached. "How could you? I've been lying to you about who I am all these years. I don't even know what it means to be good anymore. I'm destined to help you bring magic back, to bring peace to the land, but I have no idea how to do that! And the longer I wait, the more time I spend saving you, the more people like me get killed." Merlin blinked back the tears that pooled in his eyes.

"Merlin." Arthur wanted to comfort his friend, but his words hurt him. What he said was true, how could he know him through all his lies? They had brushed past that conflict because of everything that has been going on, but Arthur wasn't sure if he could forgive Merlin for what he did, and now it didn't sound like Merlin cared that he hurt Arthur. He sat in silence.

"I am committed to you first, Arthur. That's something I don't think I'll ever be able to change." Merlin turned his eyes back to his friend. Tear-filled and red-rimmed, they held Arthur's gaze as though he were enchanted. "But, I just don't know if that's right anymore. I don't know if I can keep putting your well-being over the lives of people like me. It's selfish and unfair." Merlin watched him a moment longer before turning and shuffling to the back of his cell, away from the grate. Arthur frowned.

"Do you think my father should die?" He said hesitantly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Merlin replied with silence. He curled up on the back wall and tucked his head into his arms.

Arthur shivered.

The dungeons felt even colder now.

 

* * *

 

"The traitor has returned." Uther snarled. Benedict and his druid family marched into the council chambers. Apart from the guards at every door, they were alone with the king. Benedict held his head high as he lead his family forward, dragging them along by the chains that connected their ankles together. Leuce gritted her teeth. She watched the guards around them like a hawk, her eyes darting back and forth, daring them to try something. She tucked her son closer to her chest, hoping to hide him beneath her wild hair.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Uther demanded. He stalked forward from his throne toward Benedict. He motioned to Benedict's family. "For deserting your kingdom to consort with these," his nose crinkled, disgusted, "things."

Leneus pushed Benedict's son aside and tried to leap at the king. The guards quickly threw him to the ground again. He grew up rebelling from the druids, practicing magic for personal gain, hoping to one day free his people from the rulers that executed them. A foolish attempt on Uther's life years ago got him captured, and after a narrow escape from the castle left him with one eye and a gash in his side, his sister and her new husband took him in. He had calmed down since then, vowing to protect his sister and her family, even if he wasn't too fond of the former knight she married. Her marriage had resulted in her banishment from their people. The druids felt that Benedict would betray them and lead Uther to their camps, so they made her choose. She loved her people, but her loyalty and love for Benedict and a new pregnancy made her decision and she left.

"Leneus. Don't make this worse." Benedict turned and whispered to his brother-in-law. Leneus glared at him from the ground, but said nothing. Benedict turned back to the king, who looked at him expectantly, unfazed by Leneus' actions. Benedict took a deep breath and looked Uther in the eyes. "I fell in love and I realized you were wrong." He paused and looked back at his wife and smiled before returning his attention to Uther. "So I left."

Uther rolled his eyes. He waved to a guard who brings him a few papers.

"You didn't leave Camelot, though. You and your family have been practicing magic here in MY kingdom for years. You knew what the consequences were and yet you violated them again and again!" He threw the papers at Benedict. They were complaints, accusations, gathered from the people of Camelot over years about Benedict and his family's crimes in the kingdom.

"We were healing people! The lower town has very little access to medicine. If we hadn't intervened, all those people would have died!" Benedict looked back at his wife, who had shouted at the king. Her lips were curled into an angry grimace.

"They should have died." Uther growled back. Leuce huffed. "A life provided by magic is a stolen life. It's disturbing, unnatural. Wrong." Leuce smirked.

"Like your son?" Uther gasped. He rushed to her and clawed into her arms with his nails. She could feel his muscles shaking, the tension in his body building up. Benedict tried to go to her aid, but was held back by a guard.

"Who told you this?" His whisper cut through the air like a knife, and his eyes blazed like hell fire, but Leuce didn't flinch. "WHO TOLD YOU!?" He shook her and her son began to cry in her arms.

"Stop this! Leave her alone!" Benedict struggled in the guard's hold. Uther breathed heavily. He could hear the pounding of his blood in his head. It made him feel dizzy. He released Leuce and stalked back to his throne, retrieving his sword. Benedict's eyes grew wide. "NO! Take me! Take me!" He struggled harder. Leuce held her head high. She handed her son to her brother and stepped forward. She would not die a coward. Leneus pulled the other children to face his chest, not wanting them to see what is about to happen.

"Bring him forward." Uther ordered. Leuce faltered and her shoulders dropped, defeated.

"No." She muttered under her breath.

"Make sure the children can see this." The guards pulled the children away, tears streaming down their cheeks, from Leneus and forced them to face their father, who knelt on the ground in front of the mad king. Uther's fingers twitched on the hilt of his sword. "I want them to know the consequences of betraying me."

Benedict's heart pounded. He wanted to turn back, to see his wife and his children one last time, but his body was frozen with fear. He had run from Camelot because he was scared, and now he would die the same way. Uther raised his sword, his eyes wild, and drove it into Benedict's skull with a sickening crack. There was no magic, no sudden burst into the room to save his life. He died messy and his blood splattered across the stone floor, leaving stark red puddles at Benedict's family's toes. The children shrieked as they watched their father's body collapse to the floor. Uther stepped on Benedict's head to pull out his sword, grimacing at the blood on the sole of his shoe. Leuce crumpled to the floor, sobbing. Leneus broke out of the guard's hold to go to her side. Benedict's daughter wiped her tears furiously with her sleeve, and gritted her teeth. She violently yanked her small wrists out of the shackles and quickly grabbed a knife from the guard beside her, who was distracted by Leneus. She leaped forward at the king, wielding the small blade, barely hindered by the chains on her ankles.

Uther was too fast for the distraught young girl. He struck her over the head with the heavy hilt of his sword and her body collapsed on the bloody corpse of her father. Leuce looked up at the sound and screamed at the sight of her eldest child, motionless and bleeding. Uther ignored them. He waved to a wide-eyed guard, who rushed to his side.

"Take them to a cell and prepare them for execution tomorrow." He paused and looked down at the slowly growing pool of blood by his feet. "And send a servant to clean my boots. They're a little dirty." He handed his sword to the guard, who nodded and took it silently. Uther left the room without even looking back at the devastated family.

The sound of screaming could be heard throughout the castle.

 

* * *

 

"What do you think that was?" Arthur stood at the window in his cell, peering out at the ground of the courtyard. He was unchained, free to move about in the small area, but he knelt back down at the grate in the wall. "Merlin?" Arthur's voice took on a gentleness that often went unused. Their conversation earlier had made him think, about destiny, about their lives, about the pressures of their roles in the world. At the moment, Arthur only wanted to be closer to Merlin, and he didn't know why.

Merlin was still squeezed up next to the back wall of his cell, slightly shrouded in the dusty shadows. He sniffled.

"Merlin?" His words stuck in his throat. What could he say? Nothing seemed appropriate, nothing seemed right. Arthur reluctantly moved away from the grate and paced in his cell. He sighed. "I know you think I don't understand. That you feel trapped by the destiny that the world has dropped on your shoulders, that every move you make has to be absolutely correct. You can't make a mistake because of who you are. I know you think you're the only one that feels like that."

Merlin turned his head, so he could hear Arthur's rambling better. His pulse quickened at the words that struck so close to his heart.

"Every day of my life has been preparation for running this kingdom one day. Sure, it doesn't compare with the super powerful magic hero, Merlin, but it's still quite a lot of pressure. Can I tell you a story?" He paused and walked back towards Merlin's cell wall. "When I had my twelfth birthday, my father took me up to the top of the castle, out onto the roof. He told me of my mother, how she had been murdered by a sorcerer moments after my birth. He told me that every year on my birthday, he is reminded of that day. He made me swear that day that I would never forget the reason my mother was dead and that I would continue his fight against the evils of magic." Arthur took a deep breath. "I swore to him I would. I thought I was destined to fight sorcerers."

Merlin sighed and continued to listen, saddened by Arthur's childhood desire.

"The next day," Arthur swallowed. His throat was dry, like he had breathed in sand. "He and a group of his knights took me out with them. To a druid camp." His voice cracked. Merlin could hear the emotions swelling in his words. Dread filled his chest. He knew what was coming.

"Arthur." Merlin shuddered.

"I was so scared, but my father stood there. Watching me. I wanted to make him proud. The knights were fighting all around us, like a blur. They caught one of the men. A young druid. Not much older than I am now. My father... he told me to pull out my blade."

"Arthur, stop." Merlin shuffled to the grate, his heart pounding now. He didn't want to hear this. He didn't know why Arthur was telling him this, why he was telling him now.

"I killed him." Arthur sobbed. He collapsed in front of the grate. "Merlin, he was like you, he was like me. Young and innocent, trapped by his destiny. By my father's need for revenge."

"Why are you telling me this?" Merlin's breath caught in his lungs. "I don't understand." He sounded panicked.

"When you first arrived, I still believed all that. Killing that man, I didn't like it, but I thought it was right. I thought he deserved it." Arthur whispered, his voice dripping with shame. "I never questioned it. I didn't agree with executing the children, but my father was so adamant that I just went along with it. I thought it was fine and I thought I would keep the tradition going when I was king." He reached through the bars and cautiously took Merlin's hand. "You think that you're not helping by being here, but you are. I don't believe that anymore. I don't think people with magic should be killed."

Merlin sighed and pulled his hand away.

"But you still don't like it." Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Well, not particularly, but it takes time Merlin..."

"These people don't have time, Arthur. You and I both know what that screaming was." He said sharply. Merlin was angry and bitter. The years had been unkind to him and his guilt drove a painful spike through his chest that he could no longer ignore. "I can't stay here and babysit you, I have to fix everything. I have to save all of them."

"Merlin." Arthur drawled and shook his head. "You are one man. The world is flawed and broken and bad right now, but it's not your fault because you haven't fixed it yet. I know you're frustrated, but things will change." Arthur tried to reach out to Merlin's hand again, but Merlin pulled away and looked up at him with a dark shadow in his eyes.

"Things will never change as long as your father is king." Merlin shuffled away again.

Arthur's heart clenched. His back slumped onto the wall.

 

* * *

 

 "Alright, move it. Get in the cell, you."

The guard pushed Leuce through the door across from Merlin's cell. She was still cuffed, but the chains that connected her to her children and brother were gone. Her son was snatched from her grasp as they entered the dungeon, but the fight had left her body. She stood in the middle of the dark cell, staring blankly through the back wall.

"Leuce." Leneus was locked in the cell beside her. He crawled on the floor beside their grate, waving his hand wildly through the bars. "We're going to get out, okay?" Leuce turned to her brother, gazing past his face. A hot tear slipped out of her eye and she let her knees give away and drop her to the ground.

Arthur distracted himself by watching people walk through the courtyard, as the widow's wails filled the echoing rooms.

"Mom!" Her son cried out. "Mom!!" He was in the cell closest to the entrance.

"Haelan, it's alright! We're right here, calm down." Leneus called out.

"No, he's going to drop Eli!" One of the guards held his brother, precariously tossing the baby in the air. He smirked. "Stop!" Haelan shrieked. "He's my brother! Don't hurt him!"

"You heard the boy! Leave the baby alone!" Arthur shouted from his cell. He squeezed his face through the bars in his door. Apparently, though, squished prince faces aren't as intimidating as normal prince faces. The guard laughed.

"This baby is getting burned with the rest of its filthy sorcerer family tomorrow. What does it matter if it's a little banged up?" Eli cried softly in his arms. He was scared, missing his mother, but his early life, needing to stay hidden from capture, had trained him to keep his cries quiet. The guard jiggled the baby. "Look at the stupid thing. Never had a chance."

"GIVE ME MY SON!" Leuce clawed at the bars on her door. She reached her arms out as far as they would allow. The guard held her son just out of her reach laughing.

"Come on, almost got him," he taunted.

"Stop this!" Arthur demanded.

The door next to Arthur's exploded open. Pieces of wood and metal flew across the dungeon. As the debris and dust cleared from the opening, the guard stopped laughing and set the baby on the floor. The other guards joined him, wielding their spears. Slowly, Merlin's boot stepped out from the rubble.

"Oh, don't stop on my account..." It was Merlin's voice that spoke, but once again, Morgana's control tainted his mind. He raised his hand and with a flash of his black eyes, sent the guards flying across the dungeon.

"Merlin." Arthur breathed, devastated that she had possessed him again. Merlin turned to the prince and cocked his head. He smirked and raised his hand, but before he could do anything, a tug at his feet distracted him.

"Eli." Leuce gasped. Her eyes were wide with terror. "Please don't hurt him. I've lost so much already." Her words drifted into sobs and she watched her son, pulling himself up on Merlin's boots, with the desperate longing only a mother could possess. Merlin waved his hand and the door to the cells opened with a clang. Leuce shoved her way out and scooped her son in her arms and buried her face in his neck. Haelan ran to his broken family and embraced his uncle, shaking with fear. Leuce looked up at Merlin, her eyes alight with something; knowledge, realization, gratitude? She placed her hand on Merlin's wrist and he bristled and glared at her. He seized her wrist, examining the cuffs that were locked on them. They suddenly snapped off and dropped to the ground.

"Whoa." Haelan exclaimed, rubbing his arms that were now also free of the cuffs. "How did you do that?" He reached out to Merlin's arms, seeing the heavy iron that encircled them. "Mom, he's all locked up, too!"

Leuce pulled her son away from the possessed man. She was thankful for his help, but she had been around enough dark magic to recognize it when it's right in front of her and she wouldn't have her son anywhere near it. Leuce noticed the familiar longing in the eyes of the blonde man in the cell behind the sorcerer. A painful separation, knowing one you love is not themselves. She realized what she needed to do.

Gathering up what little power she had left after being locked up for so long, she raised her hands and shouted a rarely-used phrase, and with a flash she fell to the ground.

 

* * *

 

 

"Merlin!" Leuce's spell had sent Merlin crashing into Arthur's cell door, breaking the lock. The chains and cuff disintegrated off his limbs as he fell. Arthur shoved the door open and groped Merlin to check for any signs of life. A chill in Merlin's skin worried him, he was relieved to find a steady thump of his pulse in his neck. He pulled a discarded blanket from beneath the rubble on the ground and began to wrap it around his friend.

"Pick him up, we have to leave now." Leneus gathered his nephews and his delirious, but still able-to-walk sister frantically. The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallways. More guards.

"There's no way out!" This castle was Arthur's home and playground growing up, and he knew better than anyone that these dungeons were a dead end. Leneus smirked.

"I can get us out." He dragged his family out of the hall of cell and straight to an obvious dead end. Arthur was rolling his eyes and maneuvering Merlin onto his back, when he heard an incredible crash from Leneus' direction.

"Oh gods." He hobbled to the source of the sound to find the one-eyed man grinning wildly in front of a dusty hole out of the castle.

"Time to go!" He shuffled away and darted through the courtyard, smashing through several more walls in his path.

Arthur took one look back before running after him.

 

* * *

 

 

They ran for what seemed like hours, tripping through the darkening trees of the forest. The only sound was the pounding of the blood in their head, their breath wheezing from their burning lungs. Arthur and Leneus collapsed after reaching a small hidden cave behind a group of boulders accessible only by a narrow crack in the stone. They prayed they would not be found by their pursuers and they would reach safety, but their exhaustion kept their plans very simple and brief, so for now it was time to sleep. Leneus made sure his sister was alright and laid his nephews to bed. He nodded to Arthur before laying down as well. Arthur nodded back, appreciative of the trust Leneus gave him.

Arthur gently removed Merlin from his back and laid him in a pile of leaves at the back of the cave. He tucked the thin blanket from the dungeon around him and began to walk away to get some rest elsewhere, but Merlin shivered in his sleep and Arthur couldn't bear to leave him. He sat down in the damp leaves next to Merlin and shifted him to lay on top of his lap. Arthur shrugged away a blush, telling himself it was so his friend could stay warm and dry, but he savored their closeness and sighed.

As the quiet and the chill of the evening seeped into their skin, Arthur realized what he had run from and the consequences of his actions. He had betrayed his father, his kingdom, had run away from his duty, and consorted with sorcerers. He looked down at Merlin, unconscious still. He was unsure where they were to go from here. How could he go back to Camelot? How could he possibly live under the rule of his father now that he can see how wrong he is? He brushed his hand over Merlin's chest. Did he even want to go back? Arthur absently ran his fingers through Merlin's hair and fell asleep, nauseous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and sticking with me all these months and months of writing this thing. It has become quite a beast and is the longest thing I have ever written. I know I keep saying this every chapter recently, but I am in grad school and the next few updates will be very sporadic, but good news! If I manage to stick to the current story plan, there are only four chapters left! Yay!
> 
> As always, I love your comments and I reply to all of them, and kudos are great, too. Feedback makes me want to write more! Thanks thanks!
> 
>  
> 
> *If you needed to skip section 4*  
> Benedict and his family are brought in to see Uther. Uther confronts Benedict about betraying Camelot. He reveals that he knows about Benedict and his family using magic to heal people in the lower town of the kingdom. Benedict's wife, Leuce, defends their actions, but Uther claims that a life saved by magic is stolen and Leuce brings up Arthur's life. Uther demands to know how she knew about that and becomes enraged. He grabs his sword and prepares to strike, but Benedict takes her place. Uther kills him. Benedict's daughter runs forward to avenge her father and Uther kills her as well. Uther tells a guard to take the rest of the family to the dungeon to await execution the next day and to have a servant come to clean his shoes and then he leaves.
> 
> **Character descriptions, if you need reminders or help telling people apart**  
> Benedict: Former knight of Camelot, married a druid woman, has three children and brother-in-law, deserted Camelot after falling for wife and realizing he couldn't stay any longer, deceased  
> Leuce: Benedict's wife, druid, powerful, banished from her druid camp for marrying Benedict, left when pregnant with daughter  
> Leneus: Leuce's older brother, lost an eye and was wounded after being captured and escaping from Camelot years ago, went to stay with sister and brother-in-law after being wounded, protective of his family, less powerful than Leuce, but still powerful, used to practice some darker magic  
> Haelan: Benedict and Leuce's older son, can use simple magic  
> Eli: Benedict and Leuce's young son, can barely walk, still a baby, does baby things  
> Halis (not said in chapter): Benedict and Leuce's eldest child and only daughter, strong magic user, looks like mother, deceased  
> Hector: knight of Camelot, ashamed of part in the Purge, but ignore feelings and continues on  
> Reminder: Alistair and Rowan were two of the guards that brought Merlin to Uther in the previous chapter and Merlin killed while under Morgana's control


	16. Chapter 16

A misty gray fog settled in the trees, blanketing across the forest floor and leaving a moist chill in its wake. The muted colors of the seemingly eternal predawn hour painted the brightening sky. It was quiet, apart from the chirping song of the early birds, and the bristling shudder of the leaves in the breeze.

The dampness of the morning crept into the small cave the group took refuge in for the night, sending shivers through Merlin’s body. He slowly drifted awake, disoriented and confused, both by his surroundings and the soft warmth beneath his head. He froze, unsure of how to react and unsure of possible dangers lurking in the unknown all around him.

Deciding to focus on the most pertinent issue, the human person lying underneath him, he turned his head to figure out who his pillow was. The chest rose and shifted as the man sighed and Merlin felt him curl his arm around Merlin’s back, tucking him closer to the side of his body. His arm felt strong and safe and solid around the tense servant. Merlin shifted and tilted his head up, unsurprised to discover the identity of his familiar sleeping companion, and smiled softly. He couldn’t recall what happened after Morgana took control of him yesterday, but Arthur had found a way to escape, and had stayed with him, even if it was safer for Arthur back at the castle.

_He should have stayed there, idiot,_ Merlin thought, shaking his head, but the fear he felt for Arthur’s safety was gradually pushed aside for the fond warmth blossoming in his chest, fed by the greedy intimacy of their current position and the satisfied thrum that tingled across Merlin’s touch-starved skin. Merlin relished their closeness, reminded of the previous morning in his bed, and wrapped his arm around Arthur’s chest possessively. As he moved, he could feel aching tension had settled in his muscles during the night. His body felt heavy and bloated, not appearing different on the outside, but the pressure inside was uncomfortable and unfamiliar. Arthur sighed and Merlin’s thoughts returned to his prince.

_If only we could stay here like this forever_ , he thought and stole another glance at Arthur’s peaceful expression, the tension in his face eased by unconsciousness. No Uther, no Morgana, no laws or duties, just warm and close and simple. Arthur would hate that though. He already got so restless on their longer hunting trips; their last few days spent complaining about every little thing until Merlin finally demanded they go back. He didn’t like feeling unproductive, didn’t like being away from home so long. It made him worry that something would happen to Camelot, and that fear had only worsened following Morgana’s betrayal. They hadn’t spent more than a week and a half away from the castle since then. Arthur hadn’t talked about Morgana much before their capture, but he knew it hurt him deeply to see her leave in the way she did, to see the hate that had silently grown in her for his family. Arthur still thought of her as family, and Merlin knew that even now, the thought of having to put an end to her made Arthur feel sick to his stomach.

Merlin sighed and tucked his head into Arthur’s shoulder. A sudden bout of nausea sent shivers through his body. He curled his fists into Arthur’s shirt and ground his teeth together as he waited for the dizzying waves to pass. Merlin felt Arthur begin to move as the sensations began to fade.

“Mmmm,” Arthur mumbled and yawned. Merlin looked up and met his eyes with a tired sigh.

“Morning,” Merlin whispered. His mouth was upturned into a sad smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Merlin.” He breathed out, the relief in his voice masked by a husky morning drawl. Arthur moved his hand from Merlin’s back to brush gently through his dark hair. He could feel the tension in Merlin’s body pressed up against his side. “Are you okay? Are you…you again?”

“Yeah,” Merlin paused and his eyes widened. He breathed in a deep shuddering breath, fighting off the urge to heave. Arthur stroked Merlin’s hair gently. “Just feel like vomiting my guts out, and my muscles are sore, but other than that, I’m great. And I’m fairly sure that I’m me again.” Arthur frowned.

“She didn’t fix the magic then.” Arthur spared a glance at Leuce and her family, still sleeping a few feet away next to the other cave wall, before turning back to Merlin and looking into his eyes. Yesterday, after they woke up in Merlin’s bed, the gold of his irises was equally matched by the blue, but now, the gold had nearly absorbed any trace of blue apart from the tiniest specks, like freckles on sun-kissed skin. It made Arthur worry that Morgana’s two week deadline was going to come to an end earlier than she had anticipated. It made Arthur worry he was going to lose Merlin altogether.

“Well, Morgana’s not controlling me right now, so she did something,” Merlin paused and looked away. “Just… didn’t fix everything…” He tugged at his sleeves, briefly checking the red scabs that still wrapped his wrists, and caught Arthur’s eyes. “So, what exactly happened yesterday?”

“You don’t remember?” Merlin shook his head. “I thought when she took control of you last time, you knew it. You could see what she was doing.”

“This time felt different, I felt sick, like I was going to pass out and my head was pounding. I mean your father wasn’t anywhere near me, so it must have been different, right? I just remember hearing that baby crying and the guard laughing and then it all just went black. I thought she was killing me, was really surprised to wake up this morning. With you.” Merlin looked pointedly at Arthur and smiled half-heartedly before shivering. The thin blanket Arthur had snatched from the dungeon was crumpled underneath them, presumably shaken off with their periodic tossing and turning in the night, and Arthur tugged it out and wrapped it around Merlin.

“It’s cold,” Arthur explained, hoping Merlin wouldn’t question the sleeping arrangements or the gentle way he tucked the blanket around his shoulders. He cleared his throat. “Anyways, yesterday… Well, the woman, her name is Leuce, and Eli is her baby. She has another son, not sure what his name is, something with an H. Uh, the man is her brother, Leneus. After the guard was taunting her, you smashed out of your cell, took out all the guards, set everyone free, and broke all of their shackles off. Leuce did some sort of magic on you that sent you crashing into my cell door hard enough to knock you out and your shackles just disappeared. I carried you out when we escaped and Leneus helped Leuce and her sons.”

“How did you get out? I thought they repaired the hole in that tunnel under the castle.”

“Didn’t use the tunnel. Leneus made a path straight through the walls for us. Out of Camelot and into the woods. We were running for hours until we finally found this place and passed out.” Merlin looked around at the cave.

“It’s so cozy.” He said sarcastically with a smirk.

“Well,” Arthur raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “It’s hidden and somewhat safe. You’ll just have to deal with not having your big warm bed, your majesty.” Arthur teased. He squeezed Merlin’s arm playfully and smiled, which elicited a roll of the eyes and a small smile from Merlin.

“You’re the one that has complained every morning I’ve woken you up.” He shot back. “Merlin, get out. Merlin, shut up. Merlin, close the blinds, you’re the worst servant in the world.” Arthur gasped in mock offense at the ridiculous voice Merlin used to imitate him.

“Merlin, I do not sound like that. And I hope you’re not insulting your prince…I’ll put you in the stocks again.” He winked. Arthur had leaned closer as he spoke, smirking, with each blink of his eyes slower than the last. Merlin’s breath caught in his lungs when Arthur’s tongue shot out and darted across his lips.

They let the moment settle, trying to hold onto the casual banter, that simple feeling that Merlin woke up to. But there were so many questions; they had things, important and urgent matters that needed to be discussed and they just couldn’t wait. Merlin took a breath and opened his mouth to speak, but Arthur cut him off with a soft press of his lips. Merlin softly gasped. He felt Arthur’s hand, warm against the back of his head, stroking through his hair. Merlin kissed back, the question he had wanted to ask not forgotten, but unimportant for now. There was no urgency in this kiss, their first one driven by fear of approaching hoof beats, of the possibility of an attack, the weight of their journey heavy on their shoulders. This one was slow, innocent, exploring the feeling of each other. Just the sharp edges of their chapped lips against each other and the intimate touch of bodies against one another. Arthur sucked a breath in through his nose, and Merlin’s scent filled his head, like earth and sweat and the sickly sweet smell of something he couldn’t place. His brain was swimming and he felt like he couldn’t get enough oxygen, but their closeness was addicting and the sensation of skin and fabric pulled them closer together. Arthur nipped at Merlin’s bottom lip and he gasped into Arthur’s mouth. Merlin felt the sharp angles of hips and ribs and solid muscle; his hand moved from Arthur’s chest to the back of his neck and he tried to bring Arthur’s head closer, but Arthur pulled away, reluctantly, breaking the cherished contact of their mouths. They panted, catching their breath and savoring the pounding of their hearts and the tingling of adrenaline in their veins.

“Let’s not talk about all the rest of it right now. Just let me hold you.” Arthur whispered; his eyes still closed and their faces close enough to feel each other’s breaths ghosting across their skin. He was vulnerable, asking for so little, but so much at the same time. They hadn’t discussed this; the intimacy, the touching, what their relationship had become since Arthur found out. He waited for Merlin to respond anxiously. Merlin swallowed thickly, smiled, and let his face tilt forward so their foreheads were touching.

“Your breath smells so bad right now.” Merlin whispered back. Arthur laughed, relieved, forgetting that there were other people sleeping very close to them. The air was still cold around them, but the two men suddenly felt much warmer.

“Really…” Arthur said quietly, with a playful lilt to his voice. “I’m SOH SOHRRY.” With each word, he breathed out a huff of air straight into Merlin’s face.

“Augh!” Merlin struggled in Arthur’s arms, but the prince held tight, his years of training finally coming in handy. He leaned in so his mouth was only inches from Merlin’s nose and paused, his mouth upturned. Merlin glared, fighting against the upturning edges of his traitorous lips. “No. Arthur. Ohhh, it’s so bad,” he pleaded.

Arthur winked and burped in his face. He laughed as Merlin finally escaped from his grip and glared at him indignantly.

“You are such a prat.” And even as Merlin said the insulting words, he smiled and all the venom left his voice. Arthur shrugged.

Merlin sat up. His body felt warmer now, but he pulled the thin blanket tighter around his shoulders. He still felt the uncomfortable press of his bloated insides against his bones, the invisible swell of power inside him, but he ignored it for the time being.

The druid family slept silently still. He wondered if they had learned to be so quiet because they had to hide from capture their whole lives. Even the small baby, tucked tight beside his mother, hadn’t cried or cooed or made a single sound the entire night.

“They’re alive, right?” Merlin asked, half-joking. Arthur looked over and huffed.

“Well, they’re breathing,” Arthur’s face grew stern. “I’m sure they’re exhausted. Running from knights on horses for several hours will do that to you… and whatever my father did to them before he sent them to the dungeon.”

Merlin studied Arthur’s expression. The minute changes as he spoke, the conflicted emotions that flickered in his eyes when he brought up his father. Merlin was reminded of what they talked about in the dungeons, the king and Merlin’s need to stop putting Arthur before anyone else, especially the innocent magic-users. He remembered the end of their conversation that left him feeling sick and distant.

“Arthur?” The prince glanced up at Merlin, who looked away, hesitant and unsure. Arthur didn’t want to talk about whatever he was going to say, he was sure, but he was too tired to fight it anymore. Merlin sighed, his uncertainty fading. “Yesterday, in the dungeons… I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Not what he was expecting. Arthur leaned closer to Merlin and tried to catch his evading gaze, as though looking in his eyes would help to decipher the meaning in Merlin’s words.

“What I said or more how I said it… I guess. It’s hard for me to understand how you feel about your father when all I see him as is an enemy, someone who I need to avoid or else I’ll be found out… and executed, but he’s still your father and you must love him, even with all that he’s done. I know you’re trying and I’m sorry for being so callous.” He looked away and scratched at his wrists. The vulnerability of his words and the conflicting feelings in his heart left him tense and fidgeting. Arthur pulled his hands apart and held them in his own. Their eyes met once again and Arthur smiled softly.

“Thank you. It’s alright. We’re both dealing with this pretty hard and we did have a fairly rough day yesterday, so all is forgiven.” He paused. “There was some meaning to your words, though, Merlin, for once…” He smirked and Merlin rolled his eyes. The smile fell from Arthur’s face when he began speaking again. “You said nothing will change with my father as king and I know that you’re right. People will continue to be executed and reason will not change his mind. He’s so far gone, but killing him… it can’t be our only option. He’s my family.”

“I know, Arthur.” Merlin pulled Arthur into a hug. “We’ll figure out something.” Arthur tucked his head into Merlin’s neck and breathed deeply. Warm waves of affection washed over him. It was intoxicating and nearly overwhelming. Held and secure, loved and cared for by another person, understood. Merlin reveled in Arthur’s acceptance, something he never dreamed would come when he still hid his magic not so long ago; and Arthur, the sad lonesome prince, deprived of gentle touches, of softness and intimacy from a mother long gone, wallowed in the contact as long as Merlin would allow it. The feelings were only tainted by the dark cloud of their uncertain future that hung over them.

Merlin ran his fingers through Arthur’s hair. Heads pulled apart, tilted, and then gravitated back toward each other as though tied together. An intended brief kiss to seek comfort and connection, turned into a longer caressing meeting of lips accompanied by wandering hands stroking cheeks and backs and hair. If it had gone on much longer, the kiss may have turned into something else entirely, but…

“Ahem.”

Someone cleared their throat.

Oh, right. They weren’t alone in this tiny cave.

Arthur pulled away, his face blushing with embarrassment now. Leuce was sitting across from them, an eyebrow raised, almost reminiscent of Gaius. She held Eli in her arms, rocking him gently.

Merlin took the interruption to suddenly groan and vomit in the dirt.

“You must have been a real shit kisser, mate.” Leuce rolled her eyes at her brother, who sat up next to her, stretching his arms. He winked at Arthur with his good eye, or blinked, since a scar replaced his other eye, and Arthur huffed and shook his head, blushing.

“Sorry, he’s not well.” Arthur stroked Merlin’s back as he expelled the meager contents of his stomach. With a sickening splatter, it sparkled dully in the morning light and soaked into the ground. Arthur frowned at the bright gold color. It was getting worse. A lot worse.

“I know someone who can fix him.”

“What?” Arthur stared at Leuce, his heart suddenly racing like a spooked horse. She glanced back so casually it was as though they were discussing the weather rather than a way to keep Merlin alive, which made Arthur incredibly annoyed.

“I said I know someone who can fix him. He won’t survive long with that curse.” Merlin vomited again and Arthur wiped golden beads of sweat from his neck. Arthur felt a heavy weight in his stomach, growing suspicion sending warning signals to his brain. He didn’t really know these people. This could be a trap. Instinctually, his hand rested on his waist, where the hilt of his sword usually laid. The emptiness he found there was not comforting.

“How do you know that?” He asked. He kept his voice as low and calm as he could, but he couldn’t keep his demanding tone out, inherited from his years of training and leading knights and interrogating criminals. Arthur shifted his body, just slightly, so that Merlin was barely behind him just a little more. His protectiveness was not lost on Leuce and she raised her hands up in a placating gesture.

“I mean no harm to him, or to you, I swear. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I am a seer of magical sorts; curses, spells, magical maladies. My aunt said I had a gift for it. The curse on him, it will kill him. Soon.”

“The Lady Morgana put that curse on him. Do you know of her?” Arthur demanded. He watched her reaction carefully and hoped to find the truth in her expression. Her face remained neutral and calm.

“I do,” she paused. “But my family and I are not working with her, nor do we wish to. Her use of magic is dark and destructive. It goes against the beliefs of the druids and she will not find sympathy with our people.” Arthur seemed satisfied with the genuineness and significance of what she told him and he let himself relax slightly, but remained in front of Merlin. The sounds of retching and splattering had stopped and Merlin was hunched over with his head between his knees. He kept his breathing slow and intentional, willing away the still-present nausea.

“This person that can fix him. Who are they?”

Leuce swallowed thickly. She glanced at her brother, who gave her a sympathetic look and nodded.

“She’s the leader of the camp I grew up in, and was banished from when I got married. She’s powerful, and practiced in blood magic. He will need a blood purification ritual to remove the magic that is poisoning him, and she’s the only person I know that could probably succeed.”

“And why would she help us?” Arthur asked. He feared both that it was a trap, and that the druids would refuse because of who his family is and what he has done to people of their kind. Leuce shrugged. Eli cooed in her arms and she stroked his head gently, brushing the silken hairs that peeked out of the cloth he was swaddled in with her fingers.

“You could let him die a slow and painful death if you’d prefer.” Leneus interjected sardonically. Leuce glared at him, annoyed in only the way a sister could be with a brother.

“What my brother means is that you really don’t have many options right now. You two were locked in the dungeons when we met, so obviously going back to Camelot isn’t much of a choice. We can’t promise you that they will help you, but we can promise to do the best we can for him.” Leuce said. She spoke passionately, diplomatically; Arthur wanted to trust her, but he had heard his father speak like that too, and his trust in him was fading quickly. He hoped she was a better person than his father.

“Why? Why would you do this for him?” Arthur longed that her answer would make him sure of her trustworthiness. Leuce looked past Arthur to Merlin curled on the ground, the brands on his back barely visible beneath the blanket around his shoulders. Her eyes seemed to grow brighter as she spoke.

“We know who he is destined to become, what he is meant to do.” Leuce looked Arthur dead in the eyes. “Emrys is going to help you bring peace to this land. Saving his life is the least we can do.”

“Okay,” the honesty in her voice had convinced him. “Okay.” He nodded and returned to Merlin, who had stopped vomiting, but was now sweating profusely, his skin covered in a glowing sheen of liquid gold. Merlin turned his head to look at him, pouting. Arthur used the blanket to wipe Merlin’s face and neck and frowned at the warmth that radiated off his skin.

“We should leave soon then. They’ll be looking for us still.” Leneus woke up Haelan and they prepared to leave.

 

* * *

 

 

The forest was quiet outside the safety of their cave. The sun, just stretching its rays above the horizon, blazed gold on the fading mist scattered in the trees. The color made Arthur feel ill and his thoughts returned to Merlin, who was clutching his arm as they squeezed out of the narrow opening in their temporary shelter. Leuce, carrying Eli in her arms, and Leneus, with Haelan latched onto his back, led the way. Their steps were almost silent, barely crackling the fallen leaves under their feet, unnoticeable against the hissing morning breeze. Merlin tugged his blanket tighter around his body and shivered as the chill bit straight through the threadbare fabric. Arthur frowned, but said nothing and pulled Merlin forward to catch up to the others.

“He’ll need to move quickly. We need to reach the camp before sundown tonight.” Leuce stated, looking pointedly at Arthur.

“Merlin will move as fast as he can.” Arthur retorted. Merlin still wasn’t well and Arthur wasn’t about to push him to the point of exhaustion. “Why do we have to get there tonight?” Merlin continued to hold Arthur’s arm for support. His muscles were still heavy and stiff from lying still all night and he could feel his magic pooled in his limbs, absorbing into the soft parts of his body. He didn’t want to worry Arthur, but with how fast the curse was progressing, he likely wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.

“You want him to live, don’t you?” Leneus interjected. Once again, his cutting words pulling them back to the sobering reality of the situation. Arthur glanced at the man gripping his bicep, shivering and shining gold in the light, his eyes wide and sad. Merlin nodded and Arthur sighed, resigning to a rough day of walking.

“Let’s get moving then.”

 

* * *

 

 

The day dragged on. Step after step, they trudged through the woods. Merlin slowed down after an hour of walking, apologizing and fighting another wave of nausea. Arthur demanded that they stop and rest, find some water or food, but Merlin shook his head and pushed forward. He wouldn’t let himself die out here. He had to be there for Arthur, had to be strong, had to live.

However, once the determination and adrenaline wore off, the pain became overwhelming and fatigue dragged him back down. He needed a distraction. Something to keep him going and keep his mind off the screaming of his muscles that threatened to quit with each painful step. He looked around, his neck screaming at the movement, and found only the solemn faces of his walking companions and sleeping children. It wasn’t the appropriate time or place, and Merlin likely never would have asked if he were more alert, but politeness went out the window when you were facing impending doom.

“Leneus?” Merlin asked tentatively. Leneus turned his head from where he walked a few feet in front of them. Arthur could see Leuce angle her ears to hear what Merlin was going to say, but she didn’t acknowledge them otherwise.

“What happened before you came to the dungeons?” The question was innocent, and Merlin’s tone polite and sympathetic, but there was still a moment of tense silence. Arthur had wanted to ask the same question, but didn’t and he was unsure if it were out of respectfulness or fear of what he would find out. Leneus took a deep breath. He twisted his head to check and see if Haelan was sleeping as he had been for the last twenty minutes before he sighed again and turned back to Merlin and Arthur. Leuce had angled her head back forward and was now resolutely ignoring that there was anything behind her.

“Sorry. You don’t have to answer. I just- I remember the screaming before your family came down…  Sorry. That’s too personal. Forget I asked.” Merlin looked away and shook his head as though reprimanding his own curiosity. Leneus slowed down slightly to match pace with Arthur and Merlin. Arthur noticed Leneus’ eyes beginning to shine. A chill slithered through the forest air. The sun was climbing higher in the sky, but the warmth from its rays was trapped above the trees. Arthur shivered. It was quiet for a moment, a tense and mournful silence that felt like the weight of a horse on top of them.

“No, you should know what happened. It was your father that destroyed my family.” Leneus’ words bit sharply into Arthur, and the prince pointedly avoided the harsh gaze of Leneus’ cold blue eye. The one-eyed man sucked in a shaky breath and recounted every last detail of their encounter with the king, down to the sickening crack of his sword in Benedict's skull and the fading light in the eyes of his dear young niece. Arthur listened silently to each word, his eyes narrowing with growing anger and disgust, and his jaw tense. Leneus made no attempt to hide his contempt for the king and Arthur couldn’t help but take it to heart, as though he played a part in driving the sword into Benedict’s head, as though he had been the one to murder his niece.

“My father did this…?” Arthur couldn’t believe what Leneus had said. He felt sick and trapped and panicked. How could they have let their kingdom fall so far? How could Arthur have fought for his father for so long, defending his actions, trying to make him proud to call him his son? The pounding of his heart outpaced his slowing steps. A sense of impending doom washed over him like a layer of thick, hot tar. Leneus said something to him, he saw his mouth moving, but it was like he was underwater, drowning. He turned suddenly to Merlin, with wide eyes, and gripped his hand tightly before mumbling, “I shouldn’t be here. I have to go.”

Arthur tried to pull away, needed to run, as though removing himself from this place would fix everything. Merlin held tight to his arm. Arthur pulled harder and his heart raced in his chest. The world spun around him, as though he had spent too long in the tavern. Even through his panic, he scolded himself, ashamed of his selfish reaction. This family had lost two important people, violently and at his father’s hand, and here he was pulling all the attention onto himself. Was he so desperate for comfort, for sympathy, that he would push himself to hysteria? No, he was not this person. He would pull himself together. He would be calm and strong.

A shaky deep breath later and he burst into tears and collapsed to the ground, pulling Merlin with him. Merlin pulled Arthur’s face to his chest and Arthur sobbed and wrapped his arms tight around Merlin’s waist. He fought to catch his breath and tried to focus on Merlin’s gentle hands stroking his back and the mumbled reassurances that he was saying into his hair. Arthur whimpered apologies into Merlin’s chest, desperately hoping for them to mean something. None of them brought him any comfort. Leuce allowed them a few moments to comfort each other before she was fed up. She marched over, pushing her brother out of the way, and pulled them apart.

“Get up.” She ordered. “You’re not helping anyone with all these tears.” Merlin watched Leuce, cautiously, his hands loosely holding Arthur’s hands.

“Leuce, I’m sorry. What my father did… there’s no words.”

“Then don’t speak. Let’s just go.” Leuce turned to start walking again.

“How can you just keep going, after what happened? How are you not falling apart?” Arthur called out. “My father brutally murdered your husband and daughter and you’re just moving on?”

“Arthur. Shhh, stop.” Merlin whispered, shaking his head. He placed his hands on Arthur’s cheeks and wiped the tear tracks with his thumbs. Leuce stopped walking, but did not turn to face Arthur.

“My family is no different than the hundreds of other’s your father has destroyed over the years.” She hesitated and cleared her throat. “And if you think I will ever move on, you obviously have never lost anyone you love.” Her voice broke as the words left her mouth. Her shoulders dropped for just a moment, and then she kissed Eli’s head, straightened her posture, and marched forward. “Let’s go.”

Leneus spared them a single glance before turning to catch up to his sister. His steps weren’t as sure as Leuce’s. He was still shaken up by the vivid memories replaying in his head. He fell into step with her confident stride, but soon took her hand in his and pulled her to a stop. Leneus spoke to her, saying something that Merlin couldn’t hear. Leuce shook her head and gestured angrily. They argued for a minute before Leuce turned her head away, clearly fighting to maintain her detached composure. She failed and Leneus embraced her as she wept. Merlin looked away, embarrassed that he had intruded on such a private moment.

He took Arthur’s hands and pulled him shakily to his feet, watching Arthur carefully and cautiously.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Are you going to be alright?”

Arthur took a deep breath and stood up tall. Their eyes met for a moment and the fresh pain was so clear in Arthur’s eyes that Merlin immediately understood. He reached out hesitantly and placed his hand on the nape of Arthur’s neck, gently stroking the soft hairs that grew there. The prince held out his arm for Merlin to hold onto and smiled sadly.

“Come on. We should get moving.”

 

* * *

 

 

The sight of tents and dim lights in the distance brought the exhausted group the last burst of energy they needed before they would collapse on the ground. Merlin had been leaking golden tears from his eyes and shimmery sweat from everywhere else for a few hours now, and in the dim light of dusk, he let off an almost flame-like glow, as though he were being burned alive. The resemblance set off another bout of nauseous tremors in Arthur’s gut and he tried to keep his eye off Merlin for the remainder of their journey, which was difficult because Merlin’s nausea had also returned and he groaned and squirmed uncomfortably with each aching step, and Arthur had to glance over every so often to reassure himself that he was still alive.

“That’s the camp up ahead.” Leuce called back to them. She stopped in the path and the rest of the group followed suit. She spoke quietly with her brother for a moment and then helped him remove Haelan from his back. The young boy had walked for a few hours, but the long journey sapped most of his energy and he had fallen asleep on his uncle’s back again after they had stopped for a short break to eat what little food they could find in the forest. Haelan rubbed his eyes and leaned against his mother’s leg, eyelids drooping. Merlin smiled softly. He hoped Haelan didn’t remember what happened to his father and sister. Having that innocence taken away in such a violent manner, and at such a young age, Merlin shuddered at the thought.

Leneus left the group and walked ahead to enter the camp first, acting as their liaison. Leuce was still banished, her child born of an unapproved marriage, and the druids likely wouldn’t be fond of having the son of murderous king, Uther Pendragon, marching through their camp. Hopefully, Leneus would be able to ease the worries of the druids and ensure their safe entrance, but if not, their journey would be for nothing.

The sky grew darker, and the fading colors of sunsets, reds and pinks and oranges, bled gradually into grey clouds. Pinprick stars began peeking through, one, two, then many, suddenly appearing like tiny fireflies. The trees that lined their path to the camp seemed to grow thick and heavy with shadows and the once vivid leaves of the afternoon were replaced by dull masses of shuddering grey that rustled in the chilly breeze. Merlin longed for the warmth of the firelight that looked so close, just up the path. He imagined his bed, the smell of Gaius’ chambers, a thick and heady scent of herbs and dirt and soap, his blankets on top of him, and their scratchy warmth too heavy on his skin. He remembered tossing his leg out from under them, trying to find the perfect temperature to sleep, before at last his exhaustion would take him. The memory enveloped him and suddenly he felt his knees buckling and the ground approaching him faster than he would prefer.

“Whoa!” Arthur caught him and lowered him slowly to the ground. “Merlin?”

“Sorry. ’m fine. Just tired.” Merlin rubbed his glowing eyes and furrowed his brow. He groaned. He hoped the walking would loosen some of the heavy ache in his muscles, move around the magic that had settled during the night, but he felt worse now than he had when he woke up that morning. The nausea had returned, he could see the constant moisture oozing out of his skin, and he felt as though his feet had swollen to three times their original size.

Arthur placed a hand under his chin and tilted Merlin’s head up to look at him. No blue remained in his eyes. Arthur gulped. He sat down next to Merlin, grasping his hand tightly, and they waited for Leneus to return. They hoped for good news. They hoped for a way out of this mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, yay! Almost 6k words in this one, and I almost started writing more, but decided it was better left for the next chapter. Don't expect that anytime soon, hopefully by the end of next month, but I won't make any promises. I am excited about the next bit of plot, so maybe I'll get to work on it sooner.
> 
> So, I hit my two years since starting this on the 9th of this month. That's so crazy. I will try and wrap this up soon because I really want to write something new, not that I don't love writing this, but boy have I dragged this thing out. Only a few more chapters and it'll be over. So maybe yay, maybe sad, but it will be done fairly soon, not time-wise, probably by February, maybe later maybe sooner. Who knows with my grad school schedule. Hopefully winter break will give me some good time to work on this though.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, leaving kudos, comments, ect. Hope you like it and I will see you next month!


	17. Chapter 17

“Mama, how much longer do we have to wait?” Haelan clutched at his mother’s skirt, his pale skin flush. Small bumps raised the hairs on his exposed skin with each chilling breeze and the small boy tucked closer into the warmth of his mother’s body. He peered up at Leuce with wide, tearful eyes. Leuce stroked his head gently, reverently like she was savoring the feeling of life in his body.

“Not much longer, love.” She smiled sadly and Haelan laid his head back down on her lap. Eli was cuddled into her chest, hidden from the chilling breeze by as much cloth as they could spare to wrap him in. Leuce peeked at his scrunched up face sleeping peacefully and a tear slipped down her face. She didn’t bother wiping it away.

“Leuce?” Merlin said, his voice raspy. He swallowed thickly, struggling to speak past the golden ooze that had begun to coat his throat. Leuce glanced over at him. “I just – I’m grateful for what you’ve done for us, for me. Even if they don’t help us, I wanted you to know that. Thank you… and I’m sorry for what you had to go through.” Merlin blinked, trying to clear his eyes of the heavy golden tears that obscured his vision. “I should have done more, before… to stop this from happening…”

“Yes. Maybe you should have.” Leuce paused. “But that’s not going to bring any of them back, not my husband, my daughter, not any of our friends, our people. You have to do things differently. You get your magic back and you change things. That’s how you fix it. You don’t let things go back to how they were.”

“I won’t.” Merlin promised. Leuce stared him down, like she was studying the language of his body, analyzing to see if he was telling her the truth. The leaves rustled in the trees and she looked away, her gaze shifting back to the lights of the druid camp.

“We’ll see.” She replied. Her tone indicated their conversation was over. Merlin’s muscles relaxed, some of the tension that he had been holding in replaced by a new hope, that things could change, that he would get his magic back and they would go home and fix the damage that has been done over the years and years of Uther’s reign.

Arthur held Merlin, who sank back against his chest. He wrapped his arms loosely around Merlin’s waist and sat quietly, not contributing to their conversation, unsure of what his part was here. He and his family destroyed Leuce’s people, and while he was someone of high standing back in Camelot, his voice held no weight here. He was entering as an enemy in their eyes. His mind flashed back to his father and to what he did to Leuce’s family. That man is not the same man he called his father, and that was not the type of man he wanted leading Camelot. He felt so naïve. His arms tightened and he laid his head on Merlin’s neck and breathed in his scent. He tried desperately to keep the selfish tears from escaping his eyes, but damp patches slowly blossomed on the back of Merlin’s tunic, which were decidedly ignored.

The silence settled back in, matched by the cold of the dark, breezy night. Merlin shifted slightly so their bodies pressed together tighter, squeezing the warmth out of their connected skin.

 

* * *

 

 

Time passed by, and eventually the silhouette of Leneus came striding back down the path, lit by the glow of the druid camp. Once he was close enough, they could see a solemn expression on his face and the exhaustion that weighted down his every step. He motioned for the group to follow and turned to walk back. They could see two figures at the edge of camp, tall and broad shouldered, peering down the small slope at them.

“What did they say?” Merlin asked, his voice a whisper. Leneus was quiet, like he was considering what to share with them.

“She’ll help us, but she needs to talk to you before you’re allowed to stay.” He said, staring at Arthur, who nodded back, his expression understanding, but sad. Leuce jumped in.

“You spoke to Myrine? She’s letting me stay?” Her voice was strained, thin and trembling with anxiety. She helped her older son to his feet and began walking towards her brother. “After what she said?”

“She wants to help.” Leuce scoffed at his reply. Leneus picked up Haelan who was trailing slowly behind his mother and placed a hand on Leuce’s shoulder. “She wants to speak with us, try and sort things out.”

“After everything she said, about Benedict, about how he was going to betray us and get all of us killed, about how I was a curse on our people for bringing him into our lives, she wants to ‘sort things out’?” She shook her head. “Ridiculous. I expect she’ll be glad that he’s dead; that I’ll come crawling back to her saying that she was right all along.”

“Leuce.” Leneus caught her defiant glare, and her expression softened immediately seeing his eyes pooling with tears. “Please. She doesn’t have to be right or wrong. She’s family. I just want to go home. We need to be here right now, after everything that happened. We need them.”

“We’ve done fine on our own,” she retorted. Leneus looked into her eyes, begging her to cooperate.

Leuce nodded reluctantly.

“Okay. For our family, I’ll be patient with her.” She gazed at the camp getting closer with every step with a sense of foreboding sending nauseous waves in her belly.

Arthur and Merlin had fallen behind, unaware of the conversation of their traveling companions, and unsure about the welcome they were to receive when they entered the camp. They walked slowly, their arms linked together to keep Merlin from falling.

“What if that woman doesn’t let me stay, Merlin?”

“Arth-,” Merlin started quietly, ready to refute Arthur’s distress.

“I’ve killed their people, I’ve helped capture them and send them to execution. They’re not going to let me stay. I-I don’t want to leave you,” he paused, as though realizing his vulnerability. “Alone, I don’t want to leave you here by yourself… without protection.” He turned wide blue eyes on Merlin, his grip painful on Merlin’s bicep. Arthur steeled himself, and attempted to put on a brave face for his companion, a half-assed attempt which was seen through immediately.

“Arthur,” He said with a slight grimace as he gently pried Arthur’s talon-like fingers out of his arm, and replaced it with a soft and nearly-frozen hand. He gave Arthur a small squeeze of reassurance before speaking again. “Maybe they won’t let you in, maybe they will, but either way, I’m staying with you. Okay?”

“Merlin, no,” His eyes squeezed shut and he shook his head, groaning. “No, I’m fine. I’m sorry, forget I said anything. Let’s just go.” He pulled away and started heading up the hill quicker.

“Arthur?” Merlin grabbed Arthur’s arm before he got too far away. “Arthur, stop.” Arthur turned around, but avoided meeting Merlin’s eyes.

“You have to stay. Just forget I said that. I was being selfish. You have to stay and get their help, promise me.”

“I’m not staying here without you. We’ll find somewhere else to help us. It’ll be okay.”

“No, it won’t. If you leave with me, you’ll die and all of this will be for nothing. I’ll be fine, I’ll just meet up with you after they fix you. Just, promise me you will stay. Please?” Arthur stepped in closer to Merlin, and took his hand. Merlin sighed as he saw an expression on Arthur’s face that matched the feelings he held in his heart, a desperation to keep the other safe and close.

“Fine. We don’t even know what she’s going to say yet, but I promise. If they make you leave, I’ll stay, for you.” Arthur smiled at Merlin’s reply and leaned in, kissing him gently on the cheek. Merlin felt his cheeks blush.

“Thank you.” The whispered words sent a warm puff of air across Merlin’s face, and he smiled back softly.

“Hurry up!” Leuce called back. Arthur waved in acknowledgement, and they linked arms again and continued their trudge up the hill.

 

* * *

 

 

As they got closer, the chill in the air noticeably dissipated, like they had walked into a bright patch of sunlight that was trapped in an invisible bubble around the camp. Young children peeked down the hill as they hid behind the cloth tents, only to be shooed away by watchful mothers, concerned about the strangers invited into their community by their leader. Some of the adults stood outside, watching with neutral expressions, others pulled aside the flaps on their tents, closing them as the group passed by, and pulling their children away from the opening. Merlin and Arthur caught up to Leuce and her family and followed closely behind, trying to keep their gaze straightforward, but Arthur couldn’t help but notice the wide-eyes and whispers as he passed by. Merlin squeezed his arm, as though sensing his discomfort. Arthur ignored the pounding of his heart and forced a smile for Merlin’s sake.

They could see a woman ahead, standing tall and proud, creases in her skin like streams down a mountain, and hair like a heavy cloud on a stormy day. She was speaking with two men, who looked around Leneus’ age, and nodded quickly and walked away as the group approached. Arthur felt another wave of panic come across him and he turned to Merlin as they walked closer.

“Do I look nice?” he whispered. Merlin’s face scrunched up. He flicked his eyes sideways, watching in his peripheral at Arthur as he messed with his hair and wiped frantically at the dirt dusted on his face.

“What? Did you just ask if you look nice? Arthur, this isn’t really the time-,” Merlin replied, a sarcastic tone to his voice. Arthur ignored the tone, choosing to believe that Merlin was just as concerned as he was that he looked like a maniacal woodland bandit.

“I mean, I don’t look like a terrible murderous killer, right? They know who my father is… I look, I don’t know, harmless?” They had almost reached the druid leader now, only moments away and she would hear them whispering.

“You look like you’ve been sleeping in the dirt for a week…” Merlin smiled, fond warmth blossoming in his chest. He wiped a dark streak of dirt from under Arthur’s eye, patted down a tuft of wild hair, and nodded, satisfied. “Perfect. You look like a delicate maiden.” Arthur rolled his eyes, but smiled, still concerned about the druid leader’s perception of him, but allowing Merlin’s nonchalance to alleviate some of his panic.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was only minutes since they had left the dark path at the edge of the woods, they reached the center of the camp, and the group presented themselves quietly in front of the leader. The tall wrinkled woman held a distinct air of authority; her eyes, severe, with bright irises that seemed to glisten, their light blue color in stark contrast to her tawny skin. Dark patterns laced across the parts of her not covered by clothing, tattooed symbols that Merlin had seen in Gaius’s books.

She studied the group with a neutral expression. The way she watched them reminded Arthur of his time on hunts, quietly analyzing his prey from afar before striking them down. It was unsettling being on the other end, just waiting for her to pull back the string of her bow and let the arrow pierce his flesh, wondering whether she could see his unease. When she paused in front of him, Arthur tried to ignore the feeling of panic in his chest, and return to the strong stoicism that a knight and a prince should portray, but she stepped in close, and stared straight into his wide eyes. He tightened his grip on Merlin’s arm, and nearly jumped out of his skin when Leuce’s voice slashed through the silence.

“Myrine.” Hesitant, but firm. After losing her husband and daughter in the same day, and being on the run with two young children, she wanted answers. Leuce had grown in the druid community and she knew how they delighted in drawing out everything for the drama and suspense. She had no patience for it then, and she certainly had no patience for it now. “Quit dragging it out. I know you’ve made your decision already. Are you letting us all stay or not?”

Myrine’s eyes widened slightly, and Merlin and Arthur held in a tense breath. This woman was their only chance of surviving, and Leuce spoke to her like she was a street urchin. But she didn’t get angry, or throw them out. She laughed. Her eyes crinkled and softened and a gentle sound escaped her throat, and she placed a hand on Leuce’s shoulder, smiling. Leuce tucked Eli closer to her chest, her muscles tensing.

“Still as stubborn as you were when you left,” She glanced at Merlin and Arthur, before turning back to Leuce and her family. “You may stay. I just need to speak with those two. I’m sure you’re all in need of some rest, but we need to get that situation sorted out as quickly as possible. Petyr?” She called out. One of the young druid men that was talking with her before trotted over and nodded, waiting for orders. “Can you take Leuce and her family to the open tent we made up, get them food, water, anything they need?”

“Of course.” He nodded and turned to Leuce. Petyr smiled and motioned for them to follow him away from Myrine’s tent, further into the druid camp. Leneus shifted Haelan in his arms, who had fallen asleep again and had left a damp spot of drool on Leneus’s sleeve. They walked away quietly, sparing a single glance back at the two exhausted and dirty men, before disappearing behind the tent.

“Come, take a seat in here. We need to talk.” Myrine held open the flap of her tent. It was larger than most of the other tents, tall enough to stand up straight and then some, similar to the tents that they would use at tournaments, where Merlin would carefully strap Arthur into his armor, smile at him, and say something stupid to make him laugh before he walked outside. Here, Arthur could see a table and chairs inside, dimly lit by the flickering light of a lantern. They reluctantly stepped past her, sensing their vulnerability, the isolation from the rest of the world, as the heavy canvas fell closed. Once again, they were both reminded of how much they had left behind, and how much they had lost in such a short time.

Merlin stumbled into a hard wood chair at the table. He groaned at the discomfort, less intense than earlier in the day, likely the pain had been numbed by the magic pooling in every part of his body. He wasn’t sure which was worse, feeling like he’d been lit on fire, or feeling like he’d been turned into a human sponge, full to bursting, but somehow still taking on more water. He wondered absently if this is what mothers felt like before giving birth, then chuckled to himself, and let his head fall heavy on the wooden table. Arthur sat down in the chair beside him, carefully aware of the powerful woman circling the inside of the tent, perusing a pile of parchment and old books that were strewn across various surfaces. Her wandering attention reminded Arthur of Gaius. When he was younger and he would wander the castle, he would eventually end up at the physician’s quarters where Gaius would have him sit at the table and have him grind up some herbs while he would flit from one shelf to another, pulling seemingly random papers and jars of unknown powders out of the drawers and cabinets. The guards would show up after an hour or so and drag him back to wherever he was supposed to be, most likely his studies with his tutor, who was an excessively boring man with an uneven beard and an odor like a wet dog who Arthur tormented endlessly. This woman moved like Gaius, but she had an aura about her that set Arthur on edge, like a feral dog, seemingly harmless that turns on you if you make the wrong move. With her arms full of papers and a few books, she finally sat down in a chair across the table from the two of them. She gave a pointed look and a raised eyebrow, another Gaius similarity, at Merlin, who had fallen asleep with his head on the table, and turned to Arthur.

“Not doing so well, are we?” She said.

“Uh…no. He’s pretty unwell. Are you going to help him?” Merlin shifted in his sleep, and Arthur scooted his chair closer to place a hand gingerly on the back of his neck, stroking his hair softly.

“I’m definitely going to try. Whether it works is going to be up to him though. It’s a difficult spell. But I was asking about you. You look like you’ve been struggling with something. Care to share?” She had kind eyes, like how he imagined his mother’s would look like. Her genuine concern made him want to share, but Merlin shifted again and he fought back the urge.

“I’m fine. It’s him I’m worried about. Merlin’s the priority,” he replied. Myrine looked disappointed. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

“Arthur,” she said. “I have to protect my people. I’m more perceptive than most, but I can’t read your mind. I know you have done things in your past, and I know many people in my village are not happy that I am considering letting you stay, but I believe that you are starting to have a change of heart. I just need to hear you say that. I need to believe I should trust you to stay here, and that you won’t return to Camelot to turn us in.” Arthur’s brow furrowed as he was reminded of words spoken to him earlier by Leuce.

“You would let me stay? After banishing Leuce marrying a knight of Camelot? What reason do you have to trust me, Uther’s son, more than him?” He accused, bitterly.

“That situation could have been handled differently, I admit, but I still believe it was the right choice for the time. In the end, it was about protecting my people. I would have preferred if Leuce had stayed, but she was just as stubborn then, as she is now, and she chose to leave with the knight. Things are changing, just as I have changed, and I hope that by allowing you to stay, you will be able to see us in a new light.”

Arthur considered her words carefully. He wanted to trust her, but every lesson his father had drilled into him was screaming out for him not to. He blinked back visions of his father striking down innocent people, and placed his free hand across his eyes. The memories of the past few weeks came pouring back, unwelcome, and Arthur groaned in frustration.

“Talk to me, maybe I can help?” She offered.

“He’s still my father…” he whispered. “And Morgana, my sister, we were so close, and now… I just can’t see them as being evil. They’re still family to me, but after what they’ve done, my father to Leuce’s husband and her daughter, and Morgana’s on a warpath… I feel like I’m being torn apart.” He could feel his aching heart throb as the words tumbled out. “There’s always been just good and bad people. It was always easy to see that, and people with magic were just on the wrong side. Exploiting and manipulative, seeking to gain without putting in the work. And here’s my father, doing as he’s always done, taking down the enemy, but now it’s bad because they aren’t just sorcerers with agendas, they’re people, children, families. And then there’s Merlin, and he has magic and he’s not bad, but he lied to me and I was angry, and I didn’t understand and I still don’t completely and I just-,” he looked at his sleeping companion, desperation in his eyes, struggling for words to describe how he felt. “I just… I don’t know how we’re supposed to fix this. We get Merlin’s magic back, and then what? How are we supposed to move past this?”

“That’s not something that I can tell you. It’s always a challenge to find out that people aren’t as simple as we once thought.”

“Thanks,” Arthur replied, sarcastically. “That’s incredibly helpful.”

“If I started ordering you to do this and that, you wouldn’t listen to me anyways. Who am I to you? Some random crazy magic lady in the woods. I start pushing you in my direction and you will shut down. You have the same look in your eyes that Leuce always had. After her parents died, I wanted to keep her safe, and I tried so hard. Warned her, ordered her not to go anywhere near the castles and villages. She would get caught, and taken in and I wouldn’t be able to save her. She ran off anyways, catching herself a knight from the sorcerer-killing kingdom itself.” Myrine huffed out a bitter laugh and absently shook her head. “Whatever you and Emrys decide, I will help you as best I can, but I won’t be telling you what to do.” Arthur nodded. Merlin shifted his head on the table and groaned.

“Thank you. I appreciate you taking us in and helping Merlin. I know I’m probably one of the last people you’d like in your camp.”

“I can think of someone worse,” Merlin mumbled, his eyes peeking open slightly. Arthur huffed.

“Yeah, thanks Merlin. We’re done talking about my father for now, though. You going to rejoin the conversation?” Merlin rolled his eyes and pulled his aching head off the table. He grimaced at the sight of a pool of glistening golden drool that gathered under his mouth.

“Sorry… I’m kind of leaking.” He shrugged, apologetically, and wiped at the small puddle with his sleeve.

“It’s fine,” Myrine said. She left the table and returned with a clean rag and handed it to the sweaty and drool-covered man. “How long has the leaking been going on?”

“I don’t know, a day or two. It’s hard to keep it all straight. I feel like it’s been ages since we were caught by Morgana’s men in the woods, but it’s been less than a week,” Arthur explained, as Merlin wiped the grim from his skin and the table. Arthur noticed that his face looked noticeably swollen now, and his skin looked like it was littered with old bruises, the sickly yellow patches of magic pooling wherever it found room.

“Less than a week? Walk me through everything that happened.”

Merlin explained all the way from the elixir-tipped arrows that sent burning pain through his thigh at the memory to their escape from Camelot and slow journey through the woods to the camp. Myrine listened, encouraging and patient, even when Merlin’s voice cracked, and he found the words difficult to say. Arthur focused on his breathing, but found that hearing Merlin’s voice calmed him, and that he could listen without his heart pounding out of his chest.

“May I see the brands?” She asked after Merlin finished talking.

Merlin nodded and gingerly lifted the scratchy fabric off his skin. He got the tunic up as far as his arms would allow before they protested, his raw skin stretching painfully.  Arthur helped him pull it off the rest of the way, carefully removing his tender wrists from the sleeves. Dry, crusted patches had formed on the dark symbols that were scattered around his torso, but because of the constant shackles they had locked him in, he bore harsh wounds circling his wrists like scornful bracelets. Most of the bruises had faded into sickly yellow, but it was difficult to discern between the bruises from Morgana’s torture and abuse, and the pooling gold of his magic slowly poisoning his body. Myrine hid her revulsion as she ran light fingertips along the sensitive wounds. The idea that a sorcerer would do this to one of her own kind, under the guise of bringing peace to their people, was an abomination, but with people as they are, fearful, oppressed, willing to lash out; she was unsurprised that it had happened.

“Two weeks, that’s how long she gave me. Arthur, too,” Arthur pulled up his sleeve to display the dark symbol on his forearm. Myrine snatched his arm in her hands, glancing at the mark briefly before returning the mess that was Merlin’s torso. She focused in on a grouping of symbols along his shoulders. Harsh, curved slashes, radiating heat to the touch, covered in scarlet scabs. She shuffled back to the table and flipped through the papers, frowning, not finding what she needed. Where was it? Books, lying around the room, which one held the answer… she flitted from stack to pile, until finally, she smiled, and brought the aged leather-bound book back to the table. After flipping through page after page, she stopped. Drawings of symbols spread out across the paper.

“Yes, yes. She was thorough. Very thorough. Those markings on your back, they represent the cycle of the moon, showing the progression of the curse and your deadline. I assume, however, that Morgana did not realize the volume of your power. A typical sorcerer, two weeks, but you, in the state you’re in now, I’d give you two, three days. The marking on Arthur is a twin spell, much simpler, but tethered to your fate. If we can remove the curse from you, Arthur’s should vanish, but if we can’t…” She tapered off, and gave them a sympathetic look. Merlin felt his chest sink.

“Three days, and he dies too.” His mouth fell open, and his vision blurred into a golden haze. His hand found Arthur’s under the table. “Can’t we untether them? You said it was a simple spell, right, so it should be easier to remove.”

“It’s easy to cast, but tampering with those spells often has dire consequences. It’s connected to your body, like a parasite, and trying to remove it causes a reaction. It lashes out. Kills the host. You would die.” Arthur stared forward, blankly, Myrine’s words passing through his ears. Arthur shook his head and placed his head in his hands.

“But you have a spell. Leuce said there was a ritual, blood magic, that could remove the curse?” Merlin pleaded with her now. He knew their situation wasn’t good, but he thought they’d had some time, not much, but more than a couple days.

“Yes. Incredibly risky, dangerous, painful. If you aren’t strong enough, it will kill you. But if you are, if your will to live and your connection to this plane of existence is powerful enough, the curse will be gone and your magic will slowly return, as well as removing the curse from Arthur. If it works, both of you will live.”

“Say it doesn’t work, I’m dying, nothing else we can do, can you still do the spell to remove Arthur’s curse?” Arthur looked up. Merlin was staring at Myrine. He was desperate. He couldn’t be the reason Arthur died. Not when he’d spent years in Camelot trying to save his life over and over.

“Merlin,” Arthur hissed. “It would kill you.”

“I’d already be dying, there’s no point in killing the both of us.” He was angry. Why couldn’t Arthur see he was just trying to protect him? He couldn’t understand why he was upset that he was taking precautions.

“That’s it? You’re just completely fine doing this dangerous magic thing, and risking your life?” Arthur demanded, pulling his hand out of Merlin’s.

“Yes! I don’t have any other choice, Arthur. What am I supposed to do here? This is our only option if we want any chance at surviving at least the next few days.” Merlin felt his emotions rising, hot tears pooling inside his tear ducts, ready to release. He willed his body to remain composed. He’d shed too many tears over everything Morgana had done to him. His jaw clenched and he stared Arthur down, challenging him to give him a logical response. Arthur had nothing, but his desire to keep Merlin alive.

“There’s nothing else?” Arthur pleaded. “Maybe a spell that just saves his life, not his magic. That has to be easier than getting both back.”

“Uh, let me check…” Myrine said, frowning, and spared a glance at Merlin. Her eyes widened slightly at the heated expression on his face, so she turned to her stacks of books and papers to look without another word.

“Arthur.” Merlin hissed, glaring at Arthur’s wild and desperate expression.

“What? Don’t look at me like that! I’m not going to risk your life if there’s another way we can do this.” Arthur placed a hand on Merlin’s arm, wanting to connect, but Merlin pulled away.

“You’re not risking my life, I might be your servant, but you don’t own me! It’s not your decision. If there’s a way to get my magic back, I’m going to take it. I know you don’t understand, and I know you’re still conflicted about my magic, but that’s it. She’ll be able to save you either way. You’ll be fine.” Merlin crossed his arms and nodded with finality.

“Merlin, please. Can we at least talk about this?” Arthur could feel the panic bubbling up in his chest. He wouldn’t be able to return to Camelot if Merlin died. He’d never be able to face them, not Morgana, not his father, not without Merlin. Merlin noticed the shine of his eyes, and the tremble of his hands, and sighed.

“I’m scared too, but I’ve made my choice. I can’t face Morgana without my magic, and I don’t even know who I would be without it. It’s a part of me.” Merlin took Arthur’s hand in his own and stroked the soft skin between his knuckles. “You’ve stuck with me this far, you can’t choose which parts of me you want now. It’s all or nothing.” He smirked.

“It’s not about your magic,” Merlin raised an eyebrow. “Fine, it’s a little bit about that, but it’s also about you, and your life. I know that it’s your decision, but you can’t keep martyring yourself. I know I don’t have all the details, but they want you to be this Emrys person, to save them, but you don’t have to do that. You don’t have to risk your life for them, Merlin.”

“I don’t just do it for them, you clotpole. I want them to be safe and for things to change because I have been so absorbed in protecting myself for so long, but there’s also some things that I want to stay alive for, certain people that I’ve grown fond of, and I’m not just going to roll over and let this spell kill me, and I’m certainly not going to let Morgana get away with what she has started,” Merlin smiled, and even with the fatigue and the pain that wilted his features, there was determination in his eyes. Arthur shook his head, but realized the truth in Merlin’s words. He knew that if their situations were switched, he’d likely be saying the same things.

“Fine. I hate this, but fine. You win.”

“And you’ll be there with me?” His voice was small and unsure, a stark contrast to the confidence that Merlin spoke with only moments before. He squeezed Arthur’s hand.

“Of course, if that’s alright?” Arthur said, glancing up at Myrine, who had been reading the same sentence for three minutes, pointedly not eavesdropping on their conversation. She looked up, realizing that Arthur was speaking to her now and the awkwardness of an impending argument had passed, and smiled, nodding her head.

“Actually, it is very alright. It will actually help to have someone that Emrys is close to with him when we do the ritual.” Arthur flinched at the mention of the name. Merlin noticed, and rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, I know it’s probably some druid thing, but I’d prefer it if you called me Merlin.” Powerless, aching, exhausted, and having broken down several times in the past few days, Merlin longed to feel like the prophesied Emrys that the druids saw him as, but he knew that if this spell didn’t work, Emrys would never return, and their savior was dead. Myrine shrugged, accepting the change with no argument.

“Well, I suppose we should talk about what this ritual entails. It’s a long process, and if we’re going to be doing this tomorrow, you both look like you need to get some sleep eventually.” The parchments and book whisked across the table, blown by an invisible wind. Arthur gasped in genuine surprise at the display of sorcery, and Merlin smiled at the lack of fear in his expression, just curiosity. Arthur saw Myrine’s eyes glisten, just for a moment, the same golden hue that Merlin’s irises were drowning in.

“Sleep does sound good. Let’s talk,” said the prince.

 

* * *

 

 

Several, long, complicated-magic-filled hours later, Merlin and Arthur emerged, stumbling after a young druid that Myrine called in to bring them to an open tent. They were both silent the short walk through the camp. It had been dark when they went in to talk to the druid leader, but now the sky was a dim gray, and the earliest birds were rising to catch their breakfast. The air was still cloyingly warm, the magic bubble keeping the bitter chill of the morning from their skin. Merlin longed for the weight of a blanket around his body, the gentle pressure to enclose him away. He wondered what happened to the blanket they had taken from the dungeons, likely left behind on their walk to the camp. He imagined it lying damp on a rock at one of their many stops along the way. The weight of Arthur’s arm across his shoulder and his strong hand splayed across his bicep was a tolerable substitute. However, with everything they had just learned about the ritual he was meant to do later in the day, he just wanted to be alone. To process, and breathe, and likely panic and cry a bit before processing a little more.

The druid waved to a tent, set noticeably apart from any others, on the edge of the camp. A tall tree with a trunk draped in deep green moss sat beside the tent and the lowest branches scratched at the beige canvas. Their silent guide nodded to Merlin, and left without a single glance at Arthur, trotting away toward the sound of waking people. Arthur pulled open the flap and went inside. It was cozy, only room for a stool and table, which held a pitcher of water and a plate of food, and an area to sleep. Merlin nearly collapsed at the sight of the thick blankets and thin mattress they were given to sleep with.

“It’s so beautiful. I could marry those blankets.” Merlin sighed, and flopped on the mattress. Arthur half-smiled, his mind elsewhere, preoccupied with the knowledge of what they were to go through later in the day. He didn’t want to sleep. There was a pressure in his chest. He wanted to go. He wanted to close his eyes and make it all disappear, to go back into the dark he had lived in before all this happened. But then, isn’t that worse? He felt a pang of guilt. How could he want to go back when people were being slaughtered day after day in his courtyard, and he hadn’t cared. That week before their hunting trip, before they were captured; there were mass executions with his father trying to cleanse the area for the upcoming foreign council to discuss the sorcery problem. Uther had felt that their rule had become too relaxed, that people were slipping through the cracks, that the guards were too lenient. Camelot had to look strong, ruthless; the people had to know that there was no escape from the law. Merlin had been on edge that whole week, tense and snappy. He had joked with him, made fun of how quiet he was, and how quickly he’d settle into a ‘mood’. Merlin must have been terrified. Having to hide, having to watch, knowing that a single wrong move would land him on the pyre with the rest of those people. In that moment, standing in the middle of their tent in a druid camp in the middle of nowhere, Arthur realized he wasn’t upset that Merlin lied anymore. He understood why he hadn’t told him, why he was cautious. Arthur knew there was no going back now. He knew what he had to do when they got back to Camelot.

“Arthur?” The rasping, garbled sound of his name was like sweet music from Merlin’s lips, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Come lie down. We need to get some rest.”

Arthur gave in to his body’s protests and slumped down beside Merlin. He could feel the dampness of Merlin’s skin already seeping through the fresh tunic that Myrine had given him before they left her tent. He wondered if Merlin would object to him getting closer, but before he could ask Merlin leaned back into his chest and pulled at his arm. Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin’s waist and tucked his nose into the soft dark hair that grew along his neck, breathing in his tainted scent. Merlin shivered and arched back into the touch. They were so close, it was intoxicating, overwhelming, but the feeling did not last. Merlin fought against the growing waves of nausea spreading in his abdomen, nerves, the curse, the impending terror of the dangerous ritual. Whatever it was, it was ruining the moment. He willed his magic to stop, to give him a moment of peace, but the nausea pushed up into his throat, and his eyes welled with blinding tears. Merlin shot up, his body trembling, and staggered out of the tent, holding back vomit in his mouth.

“Merlin.” Arthur’s hand stroked across his back. Another splatter hit the dirt. A pitiful sob. “You’re alright. It’s going to be alright.” Arthur held back his own tears as he lied, kneeling down beside Merlin.

They returned to the privacy of their tent once Merlin had expelled the last of the meager contents of his stomach. Arthur helped him back to the mattress and lay down beside him again, keeping his distance. He wasn’t sure how he could help Merlin when he was like this.

“Arthur?”

“What? Do you need something? Water?”

“No, I’m fine. It wouldn’t stay down long anyways. I just…you don’t have to lie so far away,” he rasped and paused, thinking about his words. “I like when you hold me.” Arthur waited a moment, then hesitantly wrapped his arms back around Merlin and sighed.

“This sucks.”

“I know.” Merlin sighed.

“I’m sorry, Merlin.” Arthur buried his face in Merlin’s neck as he spoke, but he pulled away and turned around to face him, his expression confused.

“For what?”

“Not being better. I understand why you never told me. You needed to protect yourself, and I get that. I just… I wish that I had been more open, that when I did find out, I wouldn’t have reacted how I did. That your secret wasn’t revealed how it was. I don’t know. Maybe if I-,” Merlin cut him off.

“I told you before, no maybes. No what-ifs. What happened, happened. It is what it is, and trying to change it will only cause you more pain. Thank you for understanding why I didn’t tell you, though. You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that. I did want to, thought about it constantly. Every time we would talk about something to do with magic, I’d be waiting for you to say the right thing, like a secret password that says you’re safe. I trust you, I was just scared.”

“Well, in fairness, I could be an ass. Sorry about throwing things at you all the time too,” he added with a sheepish grin.

“Could be an ass?” Merlin laughed. Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur said those words, words that Merlin had heard practically every day, and yet he’d never looked long enough before at Arthur’s face to notice the profound fondness in his expression.

Merlin couldn’t help but smile. He leaned in and pressed his damp lips to Arthur’s chapped ones. Their kiss was soft, gentle. Arthur brought his hands up from Merlin’s back and combed his fingers through his hair. They pulled apart. Merlin almost cried at the look in Arthur’s eyes. There was still the desperate terror from before, but also a look he’d never noticed, had overlooked in all his years of hiding his own secret. It was bright and shining devotion, painfully open, like anyone who looked at Arthur could see just how much he cared for Merlin. Arthur saw the same expression gaping back at him.

“We’re going to get through this. I’m not going to leave you, okay?” Merlin wiped a stray tear from Arthur’s cheek. Arthur nodded, letting another tear fall.

“I love you.” Arthur didn’t blink. He wanted to see every detail in Merlin face as he took in those three words.

“Every piece of me?” Merlin asked, already knowing the answer, but still apprehensive that Arthur might change his mind about magic.

“Every piece,” Arthur said. “I promise.”

Merlin smiled. He wrapped his arms around Arthur and tucked his head into his broad chest.

“I love you, too.”

Arthur beamed and his heart skipped a beat. He ignored his brain, trying to tell him to reign it in, protect his heart, but he felt the fuzzy feeling already spreading out his chest and through his arms and fingers and all the way down to his toes.

They relished in their happy moment until their bodies finally succumbed to the lack of energy.

They slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, wow. Sorry. Long wait. But man, this chapter was so difficult, but there's only a few chapter left now, and it's about to get really good. Oh man, you guys have no idea. It's gonna be crazy.
> 
> Anyways, thanks so much for reading, comments are my lifeblood, like they guilt me into writing more because I feel bad about being super inconsistent about posting. Kudos are super also. And just knowing you guys are reading makes me smile too, I hope you all are enjoying it though. Never know.
> 
> Not going to promise anything about the next chapter, but hoping within the next few weeks to get it done, because I am super excited to write it. It's going to be intense, but so interesting to write. Sorry for hyping. I hope it ends up as good as I'm making it sound.


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